


Thicker than Water

by taxingtaurus



Series: Family is Everything [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe, Angst, Divorce, Family, Fluff, Gen, Panic Attacks, adorable sweetheart Sara Lance, dysfunctional family relationships, fatherly Lance, pro-Laurel Lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-05-16 15:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5831677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taxingtaurus/pseuds/taxingtaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cautiously he makes his way over to the door, cracking it open slightly to find those sad, scared blue eyes staring at him once again. This time they were free of the contempt he had seen before and were instead filled with trepidation. </p><p>A little voice, sounding much younger than the girl with running mascara looked, broke the silence.</p><p>“I had nowhere else to go.”</p><p>Or, when fifteen-year-old Felicity Smoak's life falls apart, she is adopted by Quentin Lance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [i want to say yes sir](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2871797) by [slightly_sassy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightly_sassy/pseuds/slightly_sassy). 



> Unfortunately, I do not own Arrow, but this work is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

When Felicity Smoak is fifteen years old, she’s used to heartache. With a father who left when she was only seven and a mother who cares more about her social life than her daughter, she wasn’t surprised to realize that her existence was – once again – not seen as a priority. No. What was surprising to Felicity was that realizations like this could still hurt.

This morning, Felicity’s mother had once again announced that she was getting married, and once again swore that this marriage was different; that this one would last. After hearing her mother make her third, fourth, and now fifth wedding announcements, Felicity was no longer fazed. She knew that a strange man would be walking into her home, staying long enough to steal from them, and then leaving her mother emotionally bruised and broken and leaving Felicity to pick up the pieces.

She was sure she was able to handle the inconveniences that always accompanied these big changes, until her mother had thrown her a curve ball.

“Sweetie, he doesn’t want kids. He doesn’t know what to do around them, and they make him uncomfortable. He…he doesn’t know about you, and I think we’d better keep it that way, don’t you think?” Her mother stared at her with all the hope in the world; that kicked-puppy look that led Felicity to act as the mother in their relationship.

“Wh-what does that mean for me, exactly?” she asked timidly. She had a feeling she knew the answer, but she didn’t want to believe that her mother could so easily shrug her off for a man she’d barely met.

“Oh, honey, it’s fine! You’re just going to go stay with your father!”

Felicity felt her heart stop beating and slowly willed herself to take deep breaths, running her fingers through her dyed black and purple hair, taking extra care to not get it tangled in her new industrial piercing.

“You talked to him? You know where he is? And he actually _agreed_ to this?”

Her world was spinning now. Not only was she being kicked out of her own home, but apparently she was being sent to live with a father that had been absent for eight years. If he hadn’t contacted them in eight years for even a hello, it was hard to see why he would agree to take her on full time.

“Well…not exactly. I can’t talk to that man, and I won’t. I found a listing for him in Seattle, baby, and I thought _you_ could ask him! You could be living in Seattle, away from Vegas for the first time ever, making new friends, and of course I’ll call you when Jeff is at work, and I can send your stuff as soon as you know where you’re going…”

The rest of her words faded out as Felicity slowly began to realize what was happening. Neither of her parents wanted her, and they weren’t even trying to hide it. She had thought she had known what it was like to be lonely, but now she knew that she couldn’t even rely on her family to stick around.

Slowly sneaking past her mother, who was now animatedly talking about wedding colors and venues, she made sure to pack a bag that included a few outfits, a toothbrush, her laptop, and deodorant. There wasn’t anything sentimental she would want to take with her, especially now.

She quietly snuck out the back door, knowing that her mother wouldn’t bother looking for her.

*****

She doesn’t remember how she got to her boyfriend’s apartment. She guesses she must have walked the three miles to Cooper’s, based on how badly her feet were hurting, but she’s entirely too numb to care. At this point, she just doesn’t want to be alone.

She knocks on the door, knowing that he probably wouldn’t be at work, despite the fact that it was a Tuesday afternoon.

When he answered the door, Felicity was suddenly unsure of herself. _Why had she come here? What was she hoping to accomplish?_ She realized she didn’t know, but he was staring at her and she knew that she should probably start talking.

“So I know this is really last minute and you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here – I mean, if you showed up at my doorstep I would probably wonder what you were doing there, but I would probably assume that you would have a good reason, even though you don’t really know what mine is and I don’t know how to really explain it well, since it kind of just happened and I’m still processing it and-“

“Felicity.”

“Right. Umm…what I meant to say was that I’m being kicked out of my house and I was kind of hoping that you would run away with me.”

She hesitates, now wondering what he would say. Would he send her home? Would he tell her that she was crazy? He was newly eighteen, maybe he didn’t want to be with someone so young anymore? What would she do if he didn’t agree…?

Luckily for her, Cooper was more than willing to leave with her. She probably should have realized that he had ulterior motives after agreeing to leave his apartment and job so readily, but she was fifteen.

The realization came later.

*****

It was clear at the age of seven when she built a super computer out of her dad’s electronics that Felicity Meghan Smoak was gifted with technology. She hadn’t gone to school often, knowing her mother wouldn’t ask if she had, and hadn’t gone in the six months since she and Cooper had left. But her competence in computer programming was almost unparalleled, especially with help from her boyfriend who had used all of his high school electives to try to learn how to hack into government servers. So she took on the challenge that Cooper had given her to hack into a government program and bring down their firewalls. It took her all of two days.

The six months Felicity had spent computer hacking with Cooper, transferring enough funds into their accounts – untraced – in order to pay for their shared apartment, and living new lives in Starling City were the best she could remember having since she was five years old. She was finally happy, feeling loved and cared for, for maybe the first time in ten years.

Until she wasn’t.

*****

She realized, too late, that Cooper hadn’t wanted her to create her “super virus” just to see if she could. No, he wanted her to create it to erase the enormous debt in which he already found himself at age 18.

Felicity had warned him not to wire more money into their accounts than was strictly necessary, in order to avoid drawing attention to themselves, and he had listened for the most part. He didn’t want Felicity to know about his problems, and, more importantly, he didn’t want the police to investigate his situation. He was pretty sure being an adult living with his minor girlfriend was something the police would be all too happy to look into.

But when Felicity proved that she had created a program that would allow him to hack into the government servers and erase the credit card debts he had, he had taken it. She was furious and explained that it could still be traced back to him, but he didn’t worry.

Until the police showed up.

*****

Felicity couldn’t believe what was happening. One moment, she was kissing her boyfriend on the sidewalk in front of their apartment, and the next, she was being forcibly ripped away from him as he was taken into police custody.

*****

Quentin Lance couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a restful night’s sleep. He and his wife were having problems, and he spent the minimal time he had outside of work attempting to hide their problems from his two little – well, not so little now, he supposes – girls.

He sighed deeply. He had hoped that tonight would be a slow night and that his boss would be willing to let him go early so he could make it to Sara’s volleyball game and help Laurel fill out college applications (despite her protests that she isn't _going_ to college), but as the doors to the precinct opened, he knew that it would be another long night and more missed opportunities.

The kid being brought in looked about as sleazy as they came, with perfect hair and a smile that clearly expected the world to stop turning to give him what he wanted. Lance didn’t spare more than a glance at him. What really caught his attention was the girl with black hair, too much makeup, tear tracks down her face, and a clear contempt for everything in the station.

She looked maybe a year younger than Sara, and though she was trying to show everyone that she didn’t care, the fear in her blue eyes was evident. Lance’s heart couldn’t help but break for this girl. _What has she gotten herself into?_

The girl’s live-in boyfriend – because that’s clearly what he is, despite the girl’s protests that they’re “work friends”; her statement obviously given to keep him from having statutory rape charges added to his sentencing – ends up in jail, confessing to everything. He doesn’t know where the girl goes, but her sad eyes haunt him in the weeks it takes to see her again.

*****

Despite her best efforts, Felicity can’t hold a job. Not that she’s untalented or incompetent, but companies – surprisingly – are not eager to hire fifteen year old high school drop outs.

After what happened to Cooper, she finds herself too scared to attempt wiring money, and without a job and any more nonessential possessions to sell, she can’t afford the apartment. She supposes she could figure out what high school she should be attending now, but there’s no way a teacher wouldn’t notice her situation, and she’d end up in foster care or with one of her parents. She’s honestly not sure which is worse at this point.

So she does the only thing she knows to do. She finds the cop she saw at the police station a month ago.

He was one of the few people in her life – maybe even the _only_ person in her life – who had ever looked at her and actually _seen_ her. There was a kindness and sort of sympathy there that she couldn’t ever recall being pointed in her direction. She had seen the picture of two teenage girls on his desk, one about her own age. Maybe he thought about them when he saw her. She didn’t know, and after two days of sleeping at the homeless shelter near the Glades, she didn’t care.

She spent her Saturday at the Starling City Public Library on their computers, trying to pull an address for the kind cop she had seen at the precinct. In only half an hour she had found out most of his personal information, including his address and background.

_Quentin Lance, 46 years old, married, two daughters: Sara Lance, 17, and Laurel Lance, 19. 15673 5 th St, Starling City._

__She ran her eyes over the address twice, three times, and then a fourth. She pulled up the location on Google maps, and realized that there was a bus stop only a mile from the house. If she could just get her hands to stop shaking, she could do this.

*****

Lance remembers that it was raining the day Felicity Smoak ends up on his doorstep. Summer evenings meant rainstorms in Starling, and that night appeared to be no exception to the rule.

He had just received a phone call from his wife, explaining that she would be home late tonight, and made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that she was angry for some small thing he didn’t do the night before. He sighs and gets out a glass, fully intending to drown his sorrows with some whiskey under the counter while his girls are out with friends, when he hears a knock at the door.

Cautiously he makes his way over to the door, cracking it open slightly to find those sad, scared blue eyes staring at him once again. This time they were free of the contempt he had seen before and were instead filled with trepidation.

A little voice, sounding much younger than the girl with running mascara looked, broke the silence.

“I had nowhere else to go.”

*****

Felicity sits on the couch across from a clearly nervous Lance. She can’t stop shifting and the silence has crossed uncomfortable territory and is heading into full-blown torture. The situation is made no better by the fact that he is obviously out of his element, not knowing what to say to a young girl who shows up unannounced at his home.

She knows that she was the one to show up, so she probably needs to be the one to speak first, but she doesn’t know what to say. She’s nervous and reconsidering her plans and wondering why she had thought that a cop wouldn’t turn her over to foster care the first chance he got and why he would help a girl who clearly has problems as seen from her track record with illegal cyber guy and –

“Sweetheart.”

She freezes. She’s been speaking out loud again. _Oh no._

“It’s okay. I know you’re probably scared and that you don’t want to tell me, but you wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t need help, right? So just tell me what’s going on.”

“Okay, well…it’s complicated. My mom didn’t want me so she was going to send me to live with my dad but he didn’t really want me either so I moved out here with my boyfriend and he’s clearly in jail now so I’m alone and I don’t want to go into foster care and you seemed nice and I saw you had daughters so I just assumed –”

Her sentences are leaving her in a rush and she can feel the panic setting in. He’s looking at her carefully and calmly, with pity, and maybe a little sympathy, but she can’t seem to focus on anything other than how hard it has suddenly become to breathe. Her words cut off as her hands shake and she _can’t get_ _enough air…_

And suddenly she’s sitting on the edge of the couch, bent in half with her face between her knees as someone rubs soothing circles into her back and calls her “sweetheart” and it’s too much.

She supposes she must have started crying before, but the body-wracking sobs were definitely new. Before she knows it, she’s being pulled into strong, fatherly arms, and it’s the safest she’s felt since she was five years old.

*****

She doesn’t know how long it takes for her sobs to taper off and stop completely, but he’s there the whole time, telling her it’s okay and that nothing’s going to happen to her here. She starts to believe it, despite that little nagging in the back of her mind telling her not to get her hopes up.

When she can finally talk again, she shares her name and explains her situation in better detail. She explains that she needs somewhere to stay, that she’s alone, that she’s scared, that she doesn’t want to end up with horrible parents.

He nods and listens to her story until she finishes. He breathes in deeply, weighing his options, but knows, looking into those eyes, so much like a younger Laurel’s despite the difference in color, that there’s no way he’s going to tell her no. He makes up the couch for her to sleep comfortably on, and within minutes she’s fast asleep, mascara tracks down her cheeks the only sign that she’s ever felt anything but peaceful.

The question now is: how is his family going to feel about this?

*****

Sara comes home first, before Lance has properly thought of a way to explain the situation to his girls. He’s free from the first explanation: that there’s a girl staying in their home, because Sara sees Felicity on the couch while he’s in the kitchen making coffee.

“Hey, daddy? Is there…umm….why…so…there’s a Goth girl sleeping on our couch?”

He rubs a hand over his face, not sure how to proceed. He settles on repeating the girl’s words. “She had nowhere else to go.”

Sara nods thoughtfully, no other explanation needed. Quentin smiles and once again realizes how amazing his girls are. He watches as Sara makes her way toward the couch, carefully moving a purple streak of hair from the girl’s face.

“What’s her name?”

“Felicity.”

“She looks really young when she’s asleep.”

“She’s younger than you, although probably not by much. Maybe a year.”

“Hmm.” Sara tilts her head to the side, not quite sure what to do with this information. It’s clear her dad is letting her stay with them, so she feels a little responsible for this little alternative girl crashing on the couch. “How long has she been asleep?”

“Uhh….an hour maybe? She looked like she needed it.”

“Yeah. Maybe I should wake her up? I mean, she’ll probably want to be up to meet Laurel and Mom, and I have an extra mattress on my bed, so I could always set it up on the floor for her? It won’t be anything like a real bed, but it might be better than the couch at least.”

“That’s a great idea, baby, thank you. Why don’t you go set up your room for her and I’ll wake her up in a half hour.”

“Sure, dad.”

“Oh, and before I forget, we’ll talk about this,” he waves a hand in Felicity’s general direction, “with your mother and Laurel when they get home. Don’t want to clear anything that you guys might not be comfortable with, you know?”

“Okay,” Sara pauses before looking at her father, “but I think we should let her stay.” With that, Sara hurried up the stairs, no doubt to try and make their new guest as comfortable as possible.

*****

When Felicity wakes, it’s to hands gently shaking her and a voice calling her name. She braces herself, not fully remembering where she is, before she remembers that she had forced herself on the Lance family and promptly fell asleep on their couch.

She sits up cautiously and looks at Detective Lance, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Good morning, sweetheart. My daughter Sara set up a place for you in her room if you want to check it out for yourself.”

Slightly disoriented, she nods and follows Lance up the stairs to the second door on the left. The door opens and Felicity immediately finds herself in the room of a girl who loves sports. The room is a pale blue, but the walls are covered in soccer, dance, volleyball, track, basketball, and boxing posters. Among the posters are trophies and certificates, and littering the ground are jerseys and various sports equipment. Whoever Sara Lance is, she’s definitely into physical activity.

_Great,_ Felicity groans internally.

But when she looks to the girl standing in the middle of the room, Felicity is fairly certain that they are going to get along, despite their extreme lack of shared interests. Sara is just a little taller than she is, blonde, freckley, in good shape, and is smiling at her with an honest kindness that had made Felicity trust her father.

Sara motions to the mattress laying on the floor, complete with pillows, sheets, and what is obviously the fanciest comforter she owned.

“I, uh…I know it’s not a bed or anything, but it’s better than the couch. And you’ll have to share a room with me, but my sister did it for years and she still loves me…I think…” Sara trails off with a smile, clearly unsure as to how to continue the conversation, but Felicity can’t help but smile, because she’s trying. With her. With a girl she doesn’t know, who showed up and wants to live in her house and sleep in her room.

Felicity blames sleep deprivation on what she does next.

Despite being unused – though not entirely opposed to – physical affection, Felicity crosses the room and hugs Sara.

“Thank you,” she whispers, not knowing quite how to thank someone for what she’s done for her.

Sara returns the hug easily, releasing a breathy laugh and a “you’re welcome”.

Felicity just hopes meeting the others will be this easy.

*****

When Dinah Lance returns home, it’s to hear Quentin giving someone a very thorough tour of the house. She can hear Sara adding small notes here or there, but hasn’t heard a single sound that would indicate who their guest is. Walking into the kitchen, she sees a young girl with too many piercings, dark hair with purple streaks, and makeup smeared down her face. _Please don’t let this be Sara’s new girlfriend,_ she prays.

“Hello,” she says warily.

“Hey, honey,” Quentin replies. “This here is Felicity, and she needs a place to stay.”

Dinah starts to tense, thinking of all the accusations she could throw at him. She thinks back to the fight they had this morning after the girls had gone out, and knew she could add to the fire by accusing him of letting a stray stay with them without asking her, yelling at him, asking him what he thinks he’s doing when they have enough trouble supporting two teenage girls much less a third…

But she looks into that haunted little face and can’t bring herself to do it. The teenager with the black and purple hair looks shyly at her, but it’s clear she’s trying to hide a little behind Sara, who uses the slight pause in conversation to explain the sleeping arrangements.

Dinah nods along, continuing to stare at Felicity. She wants to know why this girl is here, why her parents aren’t looking for her, why she decided to stay with their family. But it’s clear that this girl is exhausted, and if they want to know her whole story, they should probably wait for Laurel to get home to avoid crowding her.

“Well, Felicity,” she says finally, “it’s nice to meet you.”

*****

Laurel returns nearly three hours later, just around eleven, after receiving a phone call from her dad that explained that “it was really time she came home”. Tommy and Oliver had made fun of her, stating that her “curfew” was “cute”, and that her parents still saw her as a kid despite her being nineteen. She was furious with her father for pulling her away from a party that had barely just started, and she made it painfully obvious over the phone before taking her time driving back and pulling into the driveway.

Laurel slams the door when she arrives but quietly makes her way up the stairs, startling badly when she sees a flash of black hair moving around Sara’s room. She had initially assumed it was Nyssa, the girl Sara was seeing but didn’t want anyone to know about, but Nyssa didn’t have purple in her hair.

“Who are you?” Laurel asks without any preamble.

“Me? Um, I’m Felicity…I’m kind of staying with you I think.”

Laurel, a little tipsy after a night out with Oliver and Tommy, felt anger flaring up inside her. _So this is the reason I came home. This little girl without a family who wants us to adopt her. Perfect. As if our family doesn’t have enough problems._

She fixed a hard glare on Felicity and her Goth persona before going into her room and slamming the door loudly enough to alert her father that she was home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity realizes that by moving in, she's affected the Lance family's lives more than she's realized, and not necessarily for the better.

Between his two daughters, potential divorce (if his and Dinah’s current relationship was any indication of the future), and the girl who had shown up at his house this evening, all Quentin Lance felt he did was sigh.

Laurel had arrived home nearly half an hour after he had called her – despite the fact that he knew she had been at either Merlyn’s or Queen’s only ten minutes away – slamming doors and refusing to look at him.

He knew she had been drinking. She could deny it all she wanted, but he knew when she came home buzzed or hungover after a night with the rich boys. God, he hated those kids. Especially Queen.

He knew that Laurel was still a little hung up on the kid, even though he was pretty sure she was seeing Merlyn now. He felt a little better that she was seeing someone who _hadn’t_ also dated Sara, but it was a small comfort when he also knew that she spent so much time partying with both of them.

He was pretty sure that girl was going to give him a stroke before he turned 50.

 _Might come sooner than you think,_ he thought exasperatedly, _if the fit she’s throwing blows up when she finds out there’s a new kid in the house… But can’t back out now._

He marched himself up the stairs to her bedroom at the end of the hall, stopping in front of the door and catching Sara’s eyes as she made her way back to her room. He could tell that Sara was worried, eyes moving quickly from his to Felicity and back. She mouthed something to him but he didn’t catch what it was. He thought it may have been “good luck”. And boy, was he gonna need it.

 _Just pull the Band-Aid off_ ; _get this over with_.

The door opened before he had a chance to knock. He was suddenly faced with an obviously inebriated and furious Laurel, who tried to make herself as large as she could.

“I know what you’re here to say. She’s some stray you want to take in, right? And you want my blessing to let some _loser_ stay here so we can help her life be filled with rainbows and butterflies? That’s bullshit, daddy!” Laurel started screaming. “She doesn’t have any right to be here, and I don’t want her here. So you guys can have your little meeting downstairs and listen to her sob story and decide to outvote me and let her live here.” Her voice dropped threateningly low, “but make sure she knows not to come anywhere near me or my friends.”

Before Lance knew it, the door was being slammed in his face. He heard the telltale signs of Laurel queueing up her iPod before he heard some song blaring through her room and drowning out the words he had prepared to shout back at her.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and decided to wait until tomorrow to clear the air with Laurel, after she’d had time to calm down and get the alcohol out of her system. At that point, he was just glad that she was home and not out with those idiots.

 _Pick your battles,_ a little voice told him, and he was pretty certain that he was going to need that voice a lot more now that he was responsible for _three_ teenage girls.

*****

Felicity had heard the whole thing. She tried not to take it personally; tried to think about what she would do in this situation. She started thinking about what would happen if her mother had brought home a stepdaughter, but quickly willed that thought away. There was no way her mother would willingly take on another kid.

But Detective Lance had, for reasons she didn’t know but hoped would keep her off the streets. She started to think back to that homeless shelter in the Glades, and decided that she could stay out of Laurel’s way if it meant she had a safe place to sleep. After all, she’d been doing the same thing around her mother for eight years.

Sara seemed to like her, though. And Lance. Maybe Lance’s wife, but she was pretty sure she saw more pity than interest when Dinah had looked at her. Maybe Laurel hated her, but having at least two people care about her in one place was more than she’d had in a long time. She’d take it.

She would just make sure to stay out of Laurel’s way.

*****

As Laurel had predicted, the rest of the family gathered downstairs in the living room, and unanimously voted to keep Felicity.

Before, she would have likely made a show of expressing her anger that they had actually used the word “keep”, like she was a stray dog or piece of Goodwill furniture, but she was too relieved to even try. She was thrilled that they wanted her, and she secretly held the word “keep” close to her heart, letting herself believe little by little that this was her forever family. Her life wasn’t perfect, but she had a feeling it would be a lot better surrounded by Sara and her parents.

*****

The three weeks following Felicity’s move into the Lance house passed relatively incident free, the only bump in the otherwise smooth road being Laurel, who still hadn’t even acknowledged her existence. Well, Laurel, and occasionally walking into hers and Sara’s room to find Sara and Nyssa making out. But she took to knocking before entering, even covering her eyes when she needed to grab something quickly, and that solved most of her problems.

Too bad that wouldn’t appease Laurel.

Felicity had anticipated that her coming to live with the Lance’s would lead to an adjustment period, but she hadn’t thought that Laurel’s would last this long.

 _Actually, you didn’t think at all,_ her conscience started. _You didn’t really consider anyone else’s feelings but yours when you moved in here. You just wanted a place to stay. And now you have one. So start realizing that you deserve having Laurel hate you and stop throwing yourself pity parties._

Her conscience was right. She hadn’t thought about how her actions would affect the Lance girls, or even Lance himself. But at least two – maybe three, she wasn’t sure – out of the four were happy to have her there, so she called it a win.

Lance had taken to calling her Flick, though she wasn’t sure why. _Felicity is too long_ , he’d said, _and Fliss or Flissy’s too preppy for a kid with a brain_. He had even told her on several occasions to “change her hair, get rid of the makeup, and pull out the nose ring”, but Felicity knew that he was more than half kidding, his only requirement being for her to be comfortable in her own skin. She pretended she hated it, even took to rolling her eyes exasperatedly whenever he called her Flick or teased her about her hair, but she secretly loved it. Loved that she was being accepted into this little family, loved that it was different from the life she had shared with her mother, loved that it was an inside joke between her and the man she’d started referring to as “dad” in her head. And she was pretty sure he knew too, based on the small smile he’d always don when she rolled her eyes. But they never talked about it. It was just another one of the small things she’d grown to appreciate since she’d moved in.

Sara, meanwhile, was ecstatic at the prospect of being an older sister, and even made a point to bring Felicity when she went out with her friends. She tended to introduce Felicity as her “baby sister” – “We’re only a year and a half apart, Sara!” she’d groan – and Felicity felt so included and so loved by her new best friend that she started referring to Sara as her “big sister” too.

Even Nyssa spent time with her. Felicity knew that Sara had been nervous about telling her family about having a girlfriend, but after Felicity had explained with excessive rambling and hand gestures that her parents already knew, Nyssa spent a lot of time at their home. Felicity was fascinated by her. Her father was a professor of anthropology, currently employed at the local university after moving from England (and before that Saudi Arabia and before that Rome and before that Brazil and before that England again…), who collected a lot of ancient relics that Felicity loved. Nyssa would describe their significance and where they were found to Felicity, sometimes even explaining their importance in Arabic when she discovered that Felicity loved the language.

She wasn’t sure if Dinah was happy to have Felicity living with them. She spent most of her nights out, and any time she spent at home was used to have fierce screaming matches with Quentin about anything and everything. She skirted around them just as Laurel and Sara did, and Felicity avoided Laurel like the plague. So far, so good.

*****

Felicity should have known that things couldn’t continue smoothly.

Over the next few weeks, her adoptive parents fought loudly in front of the girls. Dinah spent less and less time at home, until she stopped coming home completely. She had called and made an excuse to Sara and Laurel, saying that she was living in Central City now and they were free to come by anytime. Felicity was suspiciously excluded from this sentiment, but she didn’t feel hurt. She didn’t really even feel the loss of her adoptive mother, knowing her less than two months and being used to abandonment, but the same could not be said for Sara or Laurel.

Sara put on a happy face at first, and tried to use all of her energy to cheer up her dad and get him away from the liquor cabinet. But there was only so much she could give before she was burnt out. Felicity recognized the detached sorrow that Sara began to bury herself in and took to sharing a bed with her, making sure she woke up when Sara did from the nightmares, and spent too many long nights snuggled up to Sara, holding hands, the way she wished someone would have done for her when her father left.

 _I’m so lucky to have you, Flick,_ Sara would say. _You came into our lives at just the right time._ But she couldn’t help thinking that she was the reason that things had gone so badly. So many things went badly around her.

Laurel, on the other hand, seemed to follow in her father’s footsteps. She spent nearly every minute partying with Tommy and Oliver, two boys Felicity’s adoptive father expressed hatred for but she had never met. Felicity wanted to help Laurel too, but remembered too clearly the threat behind the words Laurel had spat at her father: Felicity couldn’t come anywhere near her. She decided that being around her would likely add to whatever pain she was already feeling, and stayed firm in her decision to stay away.

Until Lance had forced Felicity to hang out with her.

*****

“So I was looking through your file today, Flick,” Lance stated, looking at his new daughter, internally sighing at the dark makeup and Nirvana t-shirt she’d chosen to wear that day, “and I think there’s something you forgot to tell me.” He raises his eyebrows and stares her down, assuming she would roll her eyes and ask what he found. But that’s not what his youngest daughter did.

He noticed the shaking first. It started in her hands and moved to her legs, and her breathing got more labored. She started to look the same way she had the night Lance had taken her in, right before she’d had a panic attack on their couch and thought that he was going to put her in foster care.

“I know I shouldn’t have stolen that lady’s cat but she wasn’t feeding it enough and it was so attention-starved I couldn’t help but feel sorry for it, and I gave it back eventually – a lot fatter – but she still got the cat back and she didn’t know it was me, I just kind of left it on the porch but it figures that she’d tell the cops it was me. I mean, granted it was me, but still…”

He still hadn’t spoken, completely baffled by Felicity’s reaction to his simple statement. But apparently Felicity had taken his silence as disappointment or something threatening, because she continues, somehow talking even faster than the lightning speed she had advanced at before.

“No? Okay, well you’re probably talking about the underage drinking thing right? I haven’t taken a drink since that night and I don’t really plan to again since I spent the next day crazy hungover and miserable and they gave me 10 hours of community service that I carried through to the letter so if you’re going to kick me out just know that I’m really sorry and it won’t happen again and I really liked living here-”

“Felicity, baby, calm down,” he interrupted. “No one is getting kicked out.” He placed a calming hand on her shoulder. “Just breathe. In,” he breathed in deeply, “out,” he said as he let it out. “It’s okay. I did see that in your file,” he said, winking at her, “but you did everything you were supposed to so no one will hold that against you. No. No, I meant you didn’t tell me that it was your birthday last weekend!”

Her whole demeanor changed in an instant. Instead of looking scared and on the point of collapse, she looked deflated.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh! How come I had to learn about my youngest girl’s birthday from a police record and birth certificate?”

He could see Felicity thinking hard, biting her lip while she did so. He thought back to the night of her birthday and realized, belatedly, that it had been his night off and he’d been holed up in his room with a bottle of scotch instead of going to Sara’s volleyball game with Felicity. He’d been sure that she was going to bring it up, but her hesitant answer surprised him.

“No one cared before.” She says it without any pity or inflection at all, like she was reading off of a menu in a restaurant rather than stating that no one had cared about the most important day of her life.

He was heartbroken and determined to make up years of neglect with one day, but knew that he wouldn’t be getting any time off of work in the next couple of weeks. He also knew that Sara would be heading to soccer camp for the next week before school started, so his one chance to give her a proper birthday was Laurel.

 _She’s gonna hate this,_ he thinks, _but it’s time for her to suck it up and realize that Felicity’s a member of this house too._

He’d been determined then. “Well, that’s not the case anymore. Laurel’s going to take you out.”

*****

Felicity had been dreading this moment for days now. The moment Laurel would come home and pick her up for a mandatory night out for her birthday. The moment she would have to stop avoiding her oldest adoptive sister and purposely do the one thing she’d asked Felicity not to do.

Laurel honked the car horn again from outside, and Felicity knew that Laurel wouldn’t honk again. So, despite her best instincts, she moved quickly out of hers and Sara’s room and made her way down the stairs.

“Be safe, Flick, and tell Laurel I said no parties and no booze! And don’t let her leave you alone!”

She rolled her eyes and made some affirmative noise before she was out the door and getting into Laurel’s car.

She realized, belatedly, that Laurel was wearing some sort of orange, strappy, short dress, and that she had her hair curled and hanging over one shoulder.

Wow, she felt really underdressed in her black jeans, Metallica t-shirt, and combat boots. She suddenly wished that Sara had been around to get her ready for tonight, and desperately wished that her “older sister” hadn’t abandoned her to face Laurel alone. But it was too late now.

She tried to talk as little as possible, not wanting to incur the wrath of Laurel any more than she already had. She could feel the waves of aggression flowing from the older girl, and Laurel hadn’t even had to introduce Felicity to her friends yet.

_This is going to be a long night._

*****

They arrive at what Felicity can only describe as a mansion and barely stop the car before Laurel is out and walking to the door, not bothering to tell Felicity where they are or check to see that she was following. Felicity follows a few steps behind, unconsciously trying to stay out of Laurel’s line of sight as much as was possible.

When they get to the house, a friendly housekeeper (whose name she later discovers is Raisa) answers the door and says hello to “Miss Laurel” fondly before looking in her direction. The smile that Raisa gives her is genuine, but much smaller than the one she had given Laurel. She asks for her name, and she says “Felicity” at the same time Laurel mumbles “no one”.

“Well Miss Felicity, welcome to the Queen’s home.”

_The Queens. The super-rich family she’d heard about during her time in the Glades. As in Oliver Queen, who looked just dreamy in the tabloids; who was friends with Laurel and who she was going to meet, apparently. Great._

Laurel still hasn’t said a word to her, choosing to look at one corner of the room, a decidedly pissed look on her face. But her whole demeanor changed the second she and Felicity spotted a little girl no more than ten years old running down the stairs as fast as she possibly could.

“Laurel!” the little girl shrieked before throwing herself into Laurel’s waiting arms.

“Hey Thea!” Laurel said fondly, a small smile growing on her face. “Shouldn’t you be in bed by now?”

The little girl sent her a smirk that clearly showed Felicity that this girl would be just as much trouble as her older brother when she grew up.

“Ollie said I could stay up until I saw you because he told me you were coming over!”

“Well, since I’m here now, should we go read a bedtime story before you fall asleep?” Laurel said with a grin.

“Yes!” The little girl – Thea? – ran up the stairs without bothering to check and see if Laurel was behind her.

As soon as the little girl was out of her sight, the grin Laurel had been wearing dropped, and she turned to look at Felicity with the disgusted expression she’d worn every time Felicity was near her.

“Stay here and don’t touch anything,” Laurel mumbled disdainfully before climbing up the stairs.

 _Will do,_ Felicity thought, suddenly at a loss. Maybe she hadn’t known what to do around Laurel, but she found that being on her own was infinitely more terrifying in an unknown house. She resigned herself to looking at the family photos on the far wall, hoping to avoid anyone that could come down the stairs.

She should have known she wouldn’t be that lucky.

Not even two minutes later, she heard a “hey” surprisingly close to where she was standing, and suddenly saw a very attractive Oliver Queen advancing toward her.

*****

When Laurel had told him that her dad’s “charity case” was coming with them to the party that evening, he was not expecting a girl with piercings, Vampira makeup, and streaked purple hair to show up at his house.

He stared at her for strictly longer than was necessary before deciding it could be fun to see if she scared easily. He called out a loud “hey!” from across the room, and the Goth girl didn’t disappoint. Her hands flew to her chest and she squeaked before she realized it was him walking towards her.

He saw her deflate immediately, rolling her eyes and staring at him like she could will him away if she just thought hard enough.

 _Maybe tonight will be fun after all,_ he thought, before he caught sight of Laurel making her way down the stairs.

*****

She couldn’t believe she was at the Queen mansion, looking around the hallways and looking at real life Oliver Queen. Not talking to him, because that would mean that Laurel had let her into their conversation, and that Felicity had wanted to participate in the first place. She couldn’t help but get the vibe that Oliver thought he was a god. And maybe he looked like one, but she found his personality to be completely repulsive. He continued to hit on Laurel, even after Laurel had explained to him that she was with Tommy now, and what was worse, Laurel seemed to love the jealousy and attention she was getting Oliver.

 _I don’t know Tommy,_ Felicity thought, _but I sure feel bad for him._

As if her thoughts had magically willed him into existence, Tommy appeared behind Laurel, taking the time to give her a lingering kiss before hugging Oliver. Before Felicity was even ready for it, Tommy’s attention was turned on her.

“Hey, kid,” he says. Despite the obvious dig with the “kid” remark, there was no venom in his voice, and she even detected a fondness in his tone that she was confused by. Didn’t he know that his girlfriend hated her?

“Umm, hi,” Felicity responded, half ready for Tommy to attack her or tell her to go home.

“Felicity, right? I’m Tommy.” He gave her a lopsided grin and extended his hand for her to shake. When Felicity took it, she couldn’t help but think that this party boy was a lot softer and kinder than she had given him credit for.

“Don’t talk to her, Tommy.”

Laurel. Right.

“It’s her birthday, Laur. I’m going to at least be nice to her on her birthday,” he said, before returning his attention to her. “So how are you liking Starling? Where are you from again?”

“Vegas,” she replied, but she was so sure that Tommy was going to turn against her that she said it as more of a question than an answer.

“Oh, Vegas! I’ve been there so many times…”

Through the party, through the car rides, through the rest of the night, Tommy was nothing but kind to her, taking great care to include her in their conversations and even asking for her opinions on the party.

Laurel had mysteriously left with Oliver at the beginning of the party, making up some excuse about needing to use the bathroom, but she hadn’t come back. She couldn’t help but wonder why Tommy hadn’t left to check up on his girlfriend or ask Felicity where she thought Laurel was. But she suspected he already knew the answers to both of those questions.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” she couldn’t help but ask an hour into the party.

“What?”

“Laurel and Oliver. How they’re flirty and how she disappeared with him at the beginning of the party. Although I suspect she really left because of me, so I’m sorry about that, since she hates me and everything-”

She was planning on continuing, ready to go into another rant in light of the uncomfortable conversation she had just started, but Tommy interrupts her.

“She doesn’t hate you, Felicity. She’s just hurt that her parents were fighting and then split up. She’s feeling a little abandoned right now…you were just the one she could take that out on.”

“Well-”

“But to answer your question, no. It doesn’t bother me. Well, maybe a little. But not that much. Laurel and Oliver have a history, and I think that she likes the fact that he gives her the attention she needs right now.”

“Aren’t you supposed to do that?”

“I do. But sometimes she needs someone other than me. It’s hard when your support system is only one person. Sometimes you just need the space.”

“And it doesn’t bother you that she needs space from you and decides to flirt with her ex?”

“Not enough for me to worry about it. Besides,” Tommy flashes her a wicked grin, “I’m totally the whole package. Completely irresistible. She can’t stay away from me forever,” he winks.

And despite the terrible party and the fact that Felicity had no desire to come that night, she found herself feeling totally at ease with Tommy Merlyn, one of the playboy millionaires.

*****

Tommy hadn’t gotten himself a drink all night, but after Felicity spied Laurel walking towards them, it was clear to see why. Felicity had never seen her so completely trashed before. Her makeup was running in a million different directions, her hair half-curly and half-straight in a way that made her look disheveled, and her walk was far from the graceful stride Felicity had usually seen her use.

Oliver showed up at Laurel’s side a minute later, focusing his attention on Felicity and giving her a wide grin that scared her. He didn’t look like he was wasted, but he did look like he was planning on making Felicity’s night hell.

 _This can’t be good,_ she thought.

She made a point of standing closer to Tommy the rest of the night.

*****

Despite her drunkenness, Laurel was still making a point to let Felicity know how much she hated her. She kept sending horrible looks her way and using her conversations with Oliver to give the little Goth girl backhanded compliments.

She was pleased to see that her comments were funny to Oliver, who continued to grin and stare at Felicity like he was ready to start shooting off horrible comments of his own.

Tommy had already tried to get them to stop their drunken meanness, but Laurel didn’t want Tommy to tell her what to do. She wanted to have fun tonight, and nothing was more fun than trying to see if she could make Felicity cry.

Laurel moved past backhanded compliments and moved on to truly awful insults, watching Oliver’s face crack into more wicked grins. She loved that he was on her side in all this. She wanted someone else to understand how much she needed to hate this girl.

So when Oliver’s next words were “your sister’s kind of cute”, Laurel lost it.

She slaps Oliver and moves to stand directly in front of Felicity, who was forced to stop walking and look up. Felicity stepped back a little, hoping to avoid their conversation, but Laurel was not having it.

“Look, _freak,_ ” she started, trying to hide a smile when she saw Felicity’s face fall. “No one wanted you here tonight.”

“That’s not-” Tommy began, but he was cut off by Laurel’s continued rant.

“No one wants you, _period_. You were a charity case for my dad. He doesn’t love you, and neither does Sara. They just feel bad for you. _I_ sure as hell don’t love you.” She threw her arms in front of her face, getting a sick sort of satisfaction when Felicity’s eyes looked like they were filling with tears. “And you’re the reason they got divorced. _My_ parents?” she stressed the word because she knew it would hurt. “Things were never that bad before you came along, and now I’m missing a mother. Because of _you._ So why don’t you just leave us alone and become someone else’s problem?”

Laurel stops before her face breaks out into an evil smirk. “Right. Because no one else wanted you. Even your parents.”

She watches as Felicity backs up slowly and takes off in a full-on sprint away from them. She doesn’t know where Felicity goes, and she doesn’t care.

*****

All Felicity could think was “run”. She didn’t know where she was going, and she didn’t care.

*****

Approximately one minute after Felicity leaves, Laurel knows that she’d made a horrible mistake. She sobered up instantly, and tears started running down her face unchecked.

She knew she shouldn’t have lashed out. She knew she shouldn’t have waved all of her insecurities in front of Felicity’s face and claimed that they were Felicity’s to bear. But she had done it. Because she had just wanted the pain to stop, and for thirty seconds, it had. But it had all come crashing back, even worse than before.

“Tommy…can you please walk me home?”

He nodded, but made no move to comfort her or speak to her. She knew that Tommy was disappointed – ashamed even – to know her, but that didn’t cut as deep as the glaring fact that she didn’t know where Felicity was.

*****

Laurel made it home, expecting Felicity to be waiting for her somewhere in the house. She checked the living room couch, her father’s room, and Sara’s room, to no avail. She tried not to panic and sat on the couch, waiting for Felicity to get home, but after an hour of waiting, Laurel knew she really had done something terrible.

Because Felicity was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This chapter was focused more on Laurel, but the next chapter will be more Felicity and Lance-oriented. As always, let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Laurel work tirelessly to get Felicity back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking interest in the story and leaving comments and kudos! You guys rock!

Laurel bolted from her seat on the couch and took off for the bathroom down the hall, barely making it to her knees before she started dry heaving. She felt the familiar sting of the alcohol she’d consumed burning in her throat, and started sobbing uncontrollably. She couldn’t _believe_ she had done that. She had made a show of hating a little girl who had too many demons of her own, yelled at her in front of total strangers, and ruined what was probably the only birthday that poor girl had ever had. Why had she done it? Hated a stranger? For _months_?

_Because you’re a bitch,_ said that traitorous, nagging little voice in the back of her mind. _That’s the real reason mom left. And the real reason dad drinks. And it’s completely the reason Felicity is gone._

_I was hurting, and sad, and scared…_ she tried to push back, but she knew that wasn’t much of an excuse.

She never would have done this before she spent all of her time drinking and partying. Never.

Laurel thought back to the scared little high school girl she’d been before she had started spending so much time with Oliver Queen, and Tommy Merlyn by association. Dark blonde hair, nervous smiles, extreme fear of social rejection. She had been incredibly jealous of Sara, who was beautiful, ridiculously athletic, and always able to make friends easily. Laurel had envied that. She had wanted to feel accepted and important like Sara. So when Oliver Queen, gorgeous millionaire, had begun to take an interest in her during their sophomore year, Laurel had done whatever she could to fit in with Tommy’s and Oliver’s crowd.

She had turned into someone completely unrecognizable.

She wanted to go back in time and scream at her 16-year-old self. She wanted to sit her past self down and scream at her until she agreed to be as kind to total strangers as she was to Thea.

_Oh god,_ she thought. _I was so nice and caring toward Thea and then turned on Felicity as soon as I had the chance._

Laurel had seen the easily relationship Felicity had found with Sara, and it had only added to the pain and anger she had felt when her parents’ relationship had fallen apart more and more every day. She had wanted Sara to bond with _her_ ; to actually notice that she had a sister who was feeling the same way that she was.

Laurel hadn’t realized that Felicity had been feeling that same pain since she showed up on their doorstep.

_What have I done?_

*****

Felicity ran until her combat boots had dug into her skin and left painful blisters everywhere they touched. She ran until she was sure her makeup was completely cried off. She ran until she had absolutely no idea where she was.

She stopped in the middle of an alley, completely and totally lost. She decided that she must be out of Starling now, or at least on the very edge of town. Truthfully, she didn’t care. She was away from Laurel and her bruising words.

_If no one wants me there, then I’ll just take care of myself._

She had done it before and she could do it again. She didn’t need to rely on anyone.

Felicity tried to take stock of her surroundings, reading every street sign and trying to get a rough idea of her location. If she had her laptop with her, things would have been much easier… But she didn’t, so she accepted that she would have to stay smart and make sure she didn’t go anywhere dangerous.

She wandered around several back alleyways, and finally decided that she could afford a few hours of sleep before she decided on a next plan of action. She tucked herself securely behind a restaurant dumpster and slept.

She dreamed of being back with the Lance’s.

*****

_Now is not the time to throw yourself a pity party,_ Laurel thinks determinedly. _Right now you need to get your ass to the police station and get as many cops looking for Felicity as you can._

Laurel wasted no time, discarding her heels for a pair of tennis shoes and running to the driveway, but remembered that she had left her car at Oliver’s before the party. She growled, running to the kitchen to grab the house phone to call her father.

_He’s going to hate you for this._

_I know. But it’s important._

Lance answered the phone on the fourth ring, and Laurel started sobbing a million “I’m sorry”s before she was calm enough to tell her father that they needed to get Felicity back.

*****

It had been a relatively slow night at the precinct, the only incident reported that night being a domestic violence dispute in the Glades. A couple of the men had left to take care of the problem, leaving Lance and four of his coworkers at the station to fill out paperwork and assign cops to kids who needed community service.

_I’d give just about anything right now to stop doing all this paperwork,_ Lance thought with a frustrated sigh. _I know I shouldn’t be wishing for real cases because that means people are in trouble, but the number of hours I’ve been doing this is getting truly ridic-_

He’s pulled out of his reverie by the obnoxious ringing of his desk phone. _Maybe tonight won’t be a boring night after all_.

His smug and hopeful attitude lasted all of four seconds. Because the person at the other end was Laurel. Sobbing uncontrollably and telling him that Felicity was missing.

*****

Lance immediately hung up the phone and started barking orders for a search party. He couldn’t _believe_ that his usually responsible Laurel had let a 16-year-old in her care wander off on her own. Couldn’t believe that Flick had gone missing. Couldn’t stand to think about what could be happening to his little girl right now.

When the search parties were assigned and had left to cover their areas, Lance ran to his police cruiser and made his way home to grab a clearly distraught Laurel.

*****

Laurel sprinted through the front yard towards her father’s police cruiser, throwing open the passenger door before getting in and begging her dad to start driving.

She didn’t really know what she was saying, but she hoped that it would be enough to get her dad to _go already_ so they could find the girl she had horribly wronged.

She looked over at her father for the first time, and saw him cataloging her appearance.

_Shit._

Short dress, smeared makeup, after-party hair, probably smelling more like booze than she cared to admit.

_Daddy’s little girl…_

“Laurel.”

Her head snapped back to her father, realizing that she had moved her gaze to the floor when she saw him staring.

“What happened?”

The broken quality to her father’s voice became too much. She knew that she had to tell him everything.

“It was me,” she started, knowing that she was probably about to cry again. “It was my fault. I took her to a party and I was horrible to her the whole time. And then Oliver made some comment about Felicity being cute and-”

“Queen did this?” Lance all but sneered. “Of course he did, that selfish bast-”

“No, daddy! It wasn’t Oliver’s fault, it was _mine_. I got angry because Oliver liked her, and then I started screaming at her. Horrible things…” Laurel trailed off in a whisper, “if something happens to her, it’s all my fault.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and Lance moved to cover her hand with his own.

“We’ll talk about this later. For right now, we need to focus on getting your sister back.”

Laurel nodded her head vigorously, promising herself that if they found Felicity, she was going to be the most protective, loving, caring big sister a 16-year-old girl could ever hope for.

*****

Felicity woke about an hour later, slowly and cautiously.

And not alone.

She snapped to alert when she saw a few high school age kids advancing towards her, the quick jump to her feet reminding her of the blisters and bruises she’d gained the night before. The effort it took to walk away from the dumpster she had been hidden behind felt like torture on her body, but there was no way in _hell_ she was letting these street kids corner her in a dark alley.

She made her way to the middle of the alley and found herself face to face with three muscular guys and two girls with dark hair and nose rings. One of the girls sneered at her, and Felicity knew, despite their similar appearances and age, that she was nothing like these girls. They looked like they were out for blood, and she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“What’s a girl like you doing around the Glades this time of night?” one of the taller boys smirked.

_I’m in the Glades? Shit. Time to think, Felicity, and time to think fast._

“Just moved here actually,” she said, appearing much calmer than she felt. “Thought I’d take a look around.”

“Really,” one of the girls said. It wasn’t a question. She knew Felicity was lying. “Pretty sure no one moves into this hellhole on purpose.”

Felicity must have given them some sort of tell, because the kids started running for her, and they were fast.

*****

“Where would she go?” Lance had asked for the fiftieth time.

Laurel didn’t respond. She didn’t know.

*****

She was running for her life. She knew her feet were hitting the pavement but she couldn’t feel it. She could only focus on her heart that felt like it was going to explode, and the fact that the kids were catching up. Fast.

She made it maybe three blocks before she was bodily thrown into the side of a brick building. Her shoulders hit it first, but her neck snapped back and her head collided with the unrelenting stone. She crumpled immediately, trying to make herself as small as possible.

_You lived with a cop for two months, and this is how you’re planning on defending yourself? Really?_

She screamed as a fist caught her lip and then her eye, and saw someone’s knee advancing toward her face before she saw nothing.

*****

“Is anyone searching the Glades?” Laurel asked for the first time.

“No. I don’t think she’d go there after her time at that homeless shelter.”

_Homeless shelter. In the Glades. Oh my god, what has that poor girl gone through?_

“She was really upset. I don’t think she knew where she was going, dad. And maybe it’s just me, but I think I’d rather look for her in the Glades and not find her than the alternative.”

Laurel sucked in a deep breath when the car jerked and her father started speeding towards the Glades.

*****

Lance didn’t ever feel like he had known what it meant to be in this much pain. He was sure his heart was bursting clean out of his chest, but that wasn’t going to stop him from searching for his baby girl.

Nothing would.

Felicity hadn’t come to him in the best circumstances. She had told him a little about what it was like growing up in her home, and the neglect she had known was all too clear. He had been determined to keep her safe and let her know that she never had to fear that pain and rejection again, but it seemed he had failed.

He drove faster.

*****

Laurel’s eyes moved warily as she took in the horrors of the Glades. She really hoped that Felicity wasn’t here, but she also knew that girl had a pretty disheartening track record. Laurel stopped hoping that Felicity wasn’t in the Glades, and started wishing that they could find her before something horrible happened.

Not even a minute after that thought had crossed her mind, Laurel spied a group of teenage street kids punching and kicking what looked to be one of their own. _Strange…_

Until she spotted the purple streaks.

_Oh my god. That isn’t one of their own. That’s Felicity._

“Daddy, look! She’s right there!” Before Lance had even stopped the car completely, Laurel was out the door and running as fast as she possibly could towards the group.

“HEY.”

She’d had self-defense classes before…she could do this, right?

The kicking and punching stopped, and suddenly all eyes were turned on her.

“What do you want, bitch?” one of the guys called to her as the group began to advance on her.

“That’s my baby sister.”

She thought through the self-defense tactics she had learned, landing a swift kick to one of the girls’ abdomen and a punch to one of the guys’ nose. Her victory was short-lived, however, when the tallest guy managed to get his hands around her throat.

“This is gonna hurt you a lot more than it’s gonna hurt me…”

And then her father was there for the rescue, just like she had always remembered. He pointed his gun at the guy’s face, and the kid ran away with his friends tagging along closely behind.

“Are you okay, baby?” Lance asks Laurel calmly.

Right before he collapses.

*****

Lance shouted for Laurel to get back in the car, that he could handle the kids and that she needed to stay where it was safe, but Laurel couldn’t hear him. She was out of the car and landing swift jabs to Felicity’s attackers.

He made his way out of the car hastily, but clearly not fast enough. He made it to the scene just quickly enough to see Laurel being choked out by some street kid. He saw red, aimed the gun at the kid’s face, and watched as the kid turned tail and ran away from his daughters.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked, but his own words were drowned out by the heartbeat pounding in his eardrums. His heart hurt more than it ever had before, and pains were shooting through his left arm.

_I’m having a heart attack._

*****

“Daddy? Daddy! Can you hear me?” Laurel shouted, but she knew her father couldn’t hear her.

Her mind became a constant stream of _what do I do what do I do whatdoIdo whatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdoIdo_ for several moments before she realized that she needed help. She ran back to the police cruiser, throwing open the door and hastily grabbing the scanner receiver, dropping it once or twice before letting the police officers know where they were.

After receiving confirmation that help was coming, Laurel crossed back onto the sidewalk to keep vigil over her family.

*****

When Felicity woke, it was with her head in someone’s lap and her body lying on concrete. She felt hands smoothing through her hair and thought she heard someone whispering, “You’ll be okay, Felicity. You have to be okay,” over and over in the darkness.

_That’s funny,_ she thought. _It kind of sounds like Laurel. But Laurel hates me._

Felicity opened her eyes slowly, the light of the street lamp nearly blinding her. When she finally got her eyes to focus, she found that her imagination hadn’t been playing tricks on her. It really was Laurel holding her and combing through her hair and whispering that she was going to be okay.

“Am I dead?” Felicity whispered before she had a chance to think over that statement.

Laurel laughed quietly. “No, you’re not dead. Dad and I got here in time.”

“Dad? Where is he?”

Felicity tried to pull her broken body away from the concrete, but her head pounded and she saw stars. _Looks like getting up is not a thing I can do._

“He had a heart attack. He stopped breathing for a bit but luckily I know CPR.” Laurel stops talking to place a brief kiss to Felicity’s hair. “He’s okay. Just unconscious. And I have one hand on his pulse, just in case. It’s going to be okay, Lis.”

Okay, Felicity has _so_ woken up in another dimension.

“Lis?” Felicity saw a faint blush crawling up Laurel’s face, and thought that maybe Laurel had decided to forgive her for existing after all.

“Yeah, well…” Laurel hesitated, clearly unsure now. Her hand stopped carding through Felicity’s hair. “Sara and Dad call you Flick, so I thought maybe I could give you a nickname of my own?”

It was clearly a question. A question directed at Felicity, silently asking if there was any way she could be forgiven for the horrible things she had done to her. She looked honestly remorseful, something that Felicity hadn’t seen in a really long time. Maybe never.

Felicity could be angry. She could promise to never forgive Laurel for the horrible things she had done, throw accusations at her or vow to make her life hell.

But when Felicity looked up at Laurel, she realized how much she longed to forgive her. She hadn’t realized it before, but she knew in that moment that she really wanted Laurel’s acceptance. She wanted to have another person in her life that truly cared for her; another friend, another sister. But most of all, Felicity really wanted to be loved and comfortable in the Lance home.

That made up her mind for her.

Felicity smiled for the first time since Laurel had picked her up for the party.

“Lis is nice. But no Lissy, got it?” she finished with mock solemnity.

Laurel flashed a smile at her. _It’s a nice smile,_ Felicity thought. _Genuine._

Felicity felt Laurel’s hand comb back through her hair, and she hummed contentedly, closing her eyes.

She knew that there was a lot of stuff that still needed to be figured out; knew that her dad needed to go to the hospital, knew that Sara would need to be told about everything, knew that things would probably get worse before they got better.

But she also knew that she was going back to the only place she had ever felt at home, and that Laurel was going to take care of her.

And for now that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter ended up being a lot more Laurel than I had anticipated, but I love Laurel so it's not surprising. I'm really sick so I don't know if chapters will be posted daily in the near future, but here's hoping! Thanks for reading! And, as always, comments are appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the attack in the Glades, Felicity realizes that she needs Laurel more than she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay between this chapter and the last! I have been SO sick, but I'm starting to feel human again so I'm hoping that translates to more creativity and motivation to write. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!

After Felicity’s dad had abandoned her and her mother had started devoting her time to happy hours and night clubs, she swore that she would never rely on anyone again. And so far, her track record had been admirable. She was the one who had balanced the checkbooks and cleaned the house, the one who had taken control of her life and gotten away from her mother, the one who wired money into an untraceable account and who had found her home with the Lances. Admittedly, she had relied on Cooper to rent the apartment and Lance to give her a place to stay, but all in all, Felicity felt she had stayed true to her word.

Until now.

She hasn’t actually _said_ anything to Laurel about needing her to stay, but she knows that her eyes have been pleading despite her best attempts to act like the whole ordeal hadn’t bothered her. Even _she_ has to admit that she’s traumatized. The panic that gripped her when she had heard the sirens in the distance hadn’t eased, and despite her constant inner mantra of _you’re fine you’re fine you’re fine_ , Felicity couldn’t help but feel like those kids were going to jump her again at any moment.

She knows that the sirens mean that help is on its way, but not even that relaxes her. She’s afraid that the paramedics are going to tell her that her adoptive father is dead or in a coma or any number of horrible possibilities swirling in her mind. She’s scared that they’re going to tear her away from the Lance family. But mostly she’s terrified that they are going to pull her away from Laurel, who has suddenly become the one person Felicity can’t stand to leave. She thinks that she might have laughed at that an hour ago, when she had hidden behind a dumpster in the Glades just to get away from her, but the fear that held tight to her heart refused to grasp the irony. Laurel had saved her, and with her, Felicity felt safe.

Well, saf _er_.

So in spite of the promise a nine-year-old Felicity Smoak had made to herself, she hasn’t left Laurel’s side since she was attacked.

However, she notices that Laurel hasn’t tried to leave her side, either. Not once. Not when the police came to take their statements, not when the paramedics arrived and insisted they look over Felicity’s injuries, not even when the paramedics placed their father on a stretcher and moved him into an ambulance to be taken to Starling General.

Felicity knows the fact that Laurel hadn’t squished herself into the ambulance with her father is her fault. An officer had offered to drive Felicity to the hospital if Laurel had wanted to stay with her father, and she knows Laurel would likely have agreed if Felicity hadn’t been so scared. But she was. The thought of being around complete strangers after being attacked terrified her, and she couldn’t bear the thought of entering a hospital by herself and having to ask a receptionist where her possibly dying adoptive father was. There wasn’t even paperwork showing that she was in his immediate family. _Would they even let her see him?_

She felt the familiar fingers of panic latching onto her, and she had reached for Laurel like a lifeline before her mind had a chance to catch up and realize that her hand was moving. She stared at Laurel, hoping to convey whatever message was needed for Laurel not to leave her. Maybe they weren’t friends yet, but despite everything they had gone through, Felicity still thought of Laurel as a sister, and couldn’t help the calming effect Laurel’s presence had on her.

Laurel pulled her into a side hug and gripped her tightly before asking the officer if he would mind giving them both a ride to the hospital. After he made an affirmative noise, Felicity moved to get into the police cruiser, gratefully noting that Laurel had kept hold of her hand.

And Felicity could breathe again.

*****

Laurel can’t leave Felicity. She just can’t. She doesn’t have it in her to abandon the girl who clung to her hand; who had never looked so young with the rapidly forming black eye and no dark makeup.

_She’s just a kid. How did I never notice that she’s just a kid?_

A wave of guilt crashes over her, but she doesn’t have time for crippling despair to slow her down yet. Instead of focusing on her wrongs, Laurel focuses on helping Felicity feel safe. She knows that Felicity hasn’t stopped shaking since she had woken after being attacked, but also notes that Felicity shakes less when she keeps contact with her. So that’s what she’ll do.

The police officer motions for them to get into his police cruiser, expecting Laurel to ride shotgun while Felicity stays in the back, but as Laurel helps Felicity get into the back seat, she finds herself still very attached to a now trembling sixteen-year-old. So she slides into the back instead. She lifts her arm in silent invitation, smiling to herself when she notes that Felicity doesn’t hesitate for longer than a second before sliding close and resting her head on Laurel’s shoulder.

“Laurel?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t…umm…”

Laurel can see Felicity struggling. Even with the minimal time Laurel had spent with the now sixteen-year-old, it was clear to her that Felicity tried to be as self-sufficient as possible. She didn’t like having to rely on others.

_Probably because she’s never had anyone reliable._

“I’m here, Lis. Until you tell me to go, I’m here. That’s a promise.”

She smiles when Felicity visibly relaxes at her words.

*****

When they arrive at the hospital, they are informed that Quentin Lance is still in intensive care, and that they won’t be able to see him until he’s in a private room and medically cleared.

Laurel keeps Felicity tucked under one arm while she fiercely argues for several minutes with the nurse who had given them the information, before she accepts that it’s useless. She pulls Felicity away from a now irate nurse and sits her down in the waiting room before realizing that someone still needs to call Sara at soccer camp.

She sighs, knowing that this is not a conversation she wants to have right now. But it wouldn’t be fair for Sara to hear it from another police officer. She needed to hear it from her sister.

“I have to call Sara and tell her what happened,” Laurel tells Felicity cautiously. “Are you going to be okay on your own?”

Felicity wants to say no. She is _dying_ to say no. She feels like she’s four years old again, but she feels so much safer when Laurel is around. She still can’t fully explain her sudden attachment, since Laurel was bound and determined to make Felicity her mortal enemy not even 12 hours ago, but she’s scared and she knows in her gut that Laurel won’t let anything happen to her. Felicity wants to stay with her. She wants Laurel to keep holding her hand. She wants to hug Laurel and never let her go.

But she doesn’t know how to voice what she wants. She isn’t used to attachment; isn’t used to having her requests considered or approved. She isn’t used to wanting someone around and knowing that they’ll stay. So she starts to nod, before Laurel gives her a knowing look and pulls her from the hospital chair.

Laurel tucks Felicity against her once more, and Felicity wastes no time wrapping an arm around her waist and laying her head on Laurel’s shoulder. It makes walking a little difficult, but they’re both willing to survive a little discomfort to stay together.

*****

Laurel silently counts to ten before she shakily dials the hospital pay phone, knowing that her nerves are about to be rubbed raw from recounting the story yet again, but it’s for Sara.

_I can do this. For Sara._

When the call is finally connected, Laurel finds herself listening to a clearly disgruntled and sleep-deprived camp counselor.

“Do you know what time it is? It’s _four_ in the _morning_. Couldn’t this have waited another three hours? The girls aren’t supposed to receive personal calls anyway, this is _camp_.”

Laurel has to physically restrain herself from letting her frustrations loose on the poor camp counselor who had likely been dealing with teenage girls all summer. She takes a deep breath, using the arm still draped around Felicity to rub soothing circles into her back for several seconds before she responds.

“It’s an emergency. I need to talk to Sara Lance.”

*****

Laurel painfully recounts the previous evening, starting with how horrible she was to Felicity and deciding not to leave any important details out. She can’t fight back the guilty tears that stream down her face when she describes the reasons for Felicity running away. She can’t stop apologizing for her actions, either, though at this point she’s not sure if she’s apologizing to Felicity or Sara. She chokes out the fact that Felicity had been attacked, noticing that Felicity tenses before wrapping her arms tighter around her. Laurel simply moves her hand from around Felicity’s waist to run her fingers through her hair, calming when she feels Felicity’s muscles loosen the slightest bit. By the time she finally tells Sara that she needs to come home because their father is in the hospital, Laurel’s voice is nearly hoarse from crying.

Sara hadn’t spoken once during the story, and Laurel didn’t know if it was because Sara was listening to every detail or because her sister couldn’t stand to talk to her now that she knew her role in the night’s events.

_She should_ _hate you. You’re the reason this happened. The reason your father is in the hospital and Felicity can’t stop shaking when you turn around a corner. This is completely your fau-_

Laurel was suddenly startled out of her endless cycle of self-loathing by Sara’s soft voice on the other line.

“Is Flick okay?”

Laurel smiles. Of _course_ Sara doesn’t mention Laurel’s guilt or her own panic. She just wants to know if her sister is okay.

Laurel presses a soft kiss to Felicity’s hair before assuring Sara that their little sister is going to be fine, and she hears Sara release the breath she’d been holding.

“Good. That’s…good. Nyssa’s going to bring me home. We’ll be there in three hours.”

Laurel nods before she remembers that Sara can’t actually see her.

“Okay. I love you. Drive safely; we’ll see you when you get here.”

She slowly replaces the receiver and takes a shuddering breath before she risks a glance at Felicity.

And her heart shatters.

Her little Goth girl is visibly shaking, silent tears rolling down her face while she clings to the back of Laurel’s orange dress like she expects to be stolen away at any moment. Her breaths are leaving her in short gasps, but it’s the timid words she’s forcing through her throat that Laurel is sure that she’ll remember for the rest of her life.

“Please don’t leave. _Please_ don’t leave. Everyone leaves. My father and Cooper and my mom and now maybe dad…And most of the time I don’t care but I’m really scared and I don’t want to be alone anymore because bad things happen when I’m alone and – _Oh my god I can’t breathe-_ ”

And suddenly Felicity is almost doubled over, the one thing keeping her semi-upright being her tight grip on Laurel’s dress.

Laurel slowly lowers them to the floor of the hospital, not caring about how disgusting the floor must be or the glares being sent in their direction. She pulls Felicity into her lap and tucks her securely against her chest, promising that she’s fine, that she’s safe, that she’ll protect her.

“I’m not this person,” Felicity finally whimpers. “I don’t cling; I don’t rely on other people. But I feel like any second someone is going to pop up behind one of the corners like a freaky Jack-in-the-Box or that a nurse is coming to tell us that dad’s-”

“Hey… Dad’s fine, Lis. I promise. He’ll be fine, and so will you. You don’t feel safe right now because people hurt you,” Felicity flinches, “but you have to trust that I’ll keep you safe like I did in that alley, okay? I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you. And Sara’s on her way. You at least know Sara can take on anyone, right?” Laurel chuckles, trying to get Felicity to at least smile, but the laugh and the smile she receives from Felicity are too forced.

“I’m scared of what will happen if I trust other people too much,” Felicity whispers. “I’m afraid I won’t be _me_ if I keep clinging to other people.”

“Oh Lis…fear doesn’t last forever. You’ll feel like you again eventually, I promise. But for now it’s okay to cling,” Laurel tells her before banding her arms tighter around the girl’s small frame.

Maybe if she squeezes her tightly enough, Felicity can’t fall apart.

“…Can we call Tommy?”

*****

Felicity even surprises herself with that request. _Did I just_ ask _for_ Tommy _?_

“Would that make you feel safer?”

Felicity pauses, gratefully noting that Laurel said “safer” and not “safe”. _Would it make her feel safer to have an almost complete stranger with her and Laurel in a hospital waiting room?_ Yes. But she doesn’t know why.

She nods, moving from Laurel long enough for Laurel to rise from the floor and pick up the receiver again.

*****

Tommy’s rubbing his eyes for what feels like the fifty millionth time since he got back from taking Laurel home. He couldn’t _believe_ her. Making that poor girl cry and run away? On her _birthday_? Seriously, what is _wrong_ with her these days?

He was more than willing to overlook the sly comments she directed his way, and even let her run around with Oliver without any complaints on his part. But he didn’t think he could overlook this.

She’d become someone he didn’t even recognize anymore. He’d seen a sliver of the girl she used to be when she was around a very excited Thea, but the partying and drinking and meanness she’d lost herself in was new and seemed to take over everything else. He just wanted _his_ Laurel back.

The maid calling his name from the other room pulled him from his thoughts.

“Miss Lance is on the phone for you. She says it’s very important.”

*****

When Tommy arrives at the hospital, he meets Laurel’s eyes across the waiting room before hesitantly making his way over to where she’s sitting. As he’s approaching, he notices a distinct lack of Felicity, who Laurel had sworn was the reason he needed to come down.

_Did she lie so I would come and talk to her again?_

“Where’s-?” He starts, but he’s quickly cut off by Laurel putting a finger to her lips and using her chin to point to the bundle of blankets spread out across the seats next to her.

Tommy looks confused for a moment, before he realizes that Felicity is laying down across the two seats to the left side of Laurel, her head resting on Laurel’s lap, almost completely covered by two or three blankets the hospital must have provided for them. His eyes soften on the girl that looks too young for her life to have been this hard already. And then he notices the black eye.

“What the hell happened?”

“Shh, Tommy, don’t wake her up. She really needs to sleep.”

He stares at her expectantly, not satisfied until he had an answer.

“She…she asked me to call you. I’m still not really sure why, but she doesn’t feel safe. She ended up in the Glades tonight…and some high school kids attacked her. I think she needs as many people in her corner right now as she can get.”

He nods thoughtfully before reaching for one of Laurel’s hands.

“How are _you_ holding up?”

“I’m…dealing. I’m taking care of her.”

“Who’s taking care of _you_?”

Tommy sees tears begin to form in her eyes, and despite his anger at her only half an hour ago, he can’t stand to see her so broken. He loves her. So he settles in the seat on Laurel’s right side, draping an arm around her shoulders and silently promising to make sure she survives today, too.

“Where’s Sara?”

“She’s coming.”

“Okay. I’ll keep an eye out for her. Just try to rest.”

Laurel offers him a teary smile before she lays her head against his shoulder, and within five minutes, Tommy hears her breaths even out and feels her body go limp.

“Just rest.”

*****

There are sirens in the distance. _Were they already there before?_ He’s not moving. One second he was talking, the next, he’s in a heap on the concrete.

Time stops.

There are two bodies crumpled on the sidewalk when she runs back to the car. She thinks she calls for help, but when she comes back to the bodies on the ground, she can’t remember if she’d actually pressed the transmitter on the radio.

Her breathing turns to panting but she can’t afford to fall apart right now. She feels for a pulse on one body, finding it slow and steady. She breathes a sigh of relief before crossing to the other body. The other body that is decidedly not breathing. Whose heartbeat flutters and slows with each passing second.

She’s on her knees starting breaths and chest compressions before her brain can catch up with her body. _There’s no time it has to be now hurry up are you even doing it right there’s no time._

The sirens are louder, maybe. Still far away, but getting closer.

His heart starts again and his breaths are jagged and hurried but they’re there.

She collapses onto the concrete, her muscles refusing to work now that the adrenaline is gone.

She’s so relieved.

Until his body rises from the concrete. His hands wrap around her throat and she’s screaming but there’s not enough air to pull into her lungs for the scream to be loud enough for someone to save her and he keeps saying it’s her fault.

_You killed me, Laurel._

_It’s all because of you, Laurel._

_Laurel…Laurel…Laurel…_

“Laurel!”

She shoots awake, eyes scanning the room quickly before she remembers where she is and feels the small weight of Felicity against her side.

She’s in the hospital.

Waiting for her dad.

Who didn’t die after she restarted his heart.

Right.

Felicity’s awake now, staring at her and clearly concerned.

“You were having a nightmare, I think.”

Laurel forces herself to smile at the brunette sitting next to her.

“Yeah, but it’s over now. Where’s Tommy?”

“He went to get us coffee a couple minutes ago. He should be back soon. Sara should be here with Nyssa soon, too.”

Laurel wills her breaths to even out before she drapes her arm around Felicity’s shoulders, suddenly needing a point of contact to know that her dreams weren’t reality. She nods and keeps scanning the room for Tommy before she sees a very distraught Sara running through the automatic doors of the hospital.

*****

Sara thanks the heavens every second of the car ride back to Starling that Nyssa was one of the girls to drive a carpool to camp. She feels a little bad that either Nyssa or her dad will have to drive the three hours back to camp at the end of the week to pick up the other three girls that she had chauffeured, but mostly she’s glad that her girlfriend is the one taking her to the hospital to see her dad and sisters.

She’s already decided to forgive Laurel by the time they’ve made it an hour away from camp, knowing that Laurel clearly regretted her actions and that Felicity would be fine, but she has no idea how the dynamic between the two will be after all that’s happened.

_Well, it can’t be worse than what it was before._

Nyssa assures her that everything will be fine, leaving one hand on the steering wheel while the other tangles with Sara’s on her lap. Sara stares out the window and tries to soak up Nyssa’s reassurances, but she knows she won’t feel calm until she can see her family with her own eyes.

Leaning back in her seat and keeping a tight grip on Nyssa’s hand, Sara closes her eyes and starts to count backwards from a million.

*****

Nyssa drops her off at the hospital entrance after giving her a kiss, knowing that Sara wouldn’t be able to wait for her to find a parking spot before the need to see her family started to kill her.

Sara ran into the hospital, starting to call for a nurse before she saw Laurel and Felicity in the waiting room.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she caught sight of Felicity. Black eye, like Laurel had said, but otherwise fine.

As Sara got closer, she noticed that Laurel and Felicity were sitting very close together, holding hands while Felicity’s head rested on Laurel’s shoulder.

_Huh…maybe the three of us can be sisters after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a little out of character for Felicity to be so clingy, but I wanted to show how her trauma affected her, as well as her view of herself, and brought her closer to Laurel. It'll be important for later chapters if this plays out the way I think it will.
> 
> As always, feel free to review!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of their time in the Glades is hard for both Felicity and Laurel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind comments! They honestly make my day, every day. I'm not the best at responding to them, but you should know that I smile and literally giggle every time I read them. You guys are the best! 
> 
> Just a fair warning, this chapter is very angsty. Depression and anxiety are kicking my ass, and it definitely shows.
> 
> Thanks for staying with the story, and thanks for reading!

It takes another terrifyingly long four hours before Lance is moved from the ICU to a private room.

Laurel had sent Tommy and a clearly exhausted Nyssa home an hour before he was moved, thanking both of them and kissing their cheeks before asking them to drive home safely. Tommy had sighed and shifted uncomfortably for several minutes before he had gone. Laurel knew that they would need to talk before anything could hope to be resolved between them, but they also knew that now wasn’t the right time. Nyssa had kissed a sleeping Sara’s hair before making Laurel _promise_ to call her if Sara needed anything. She agreed easily, and Laurel had spent the past hour drinking a truly ridiculous amount of coffee and watching the news from an uncomfortable waiting room chair.

When the nurse calls for the immediate family of a Quentin Lance and announces that he is expected to be conscious soon, Laurel wastes no time moving to wake her dozing sisters. But when she moves from her chair to do just that, her heart nearly stops in her chest. She crouches down in front of the two younger girls and almost doesn’t have the heart to wake them.

It’s clear that nearly a week apart has done nothing to change the bond that had grown between Felicity and Sara over the past two months. While Felicity had clung to Laurel like a scared child to their parent, her current entanglement with Sara proved to Laurel that they had become sisters in every sense of the word. Felicity still held Laurel’s hand, but the rest of her body crumpled sideways against Sara’s, her dark hair spreading across the middle sister’s camp sweatshirt. Her head rested precariously on Sara’s shoulder, the hand not clinging to Laurel holding tightly to Sara’s. Laurel grins when she sees that Sara had also curled herself protectively around the youngest girl in sleep, her head resting on Felicity’s against her shoulder and both hands gripping Felicity’s in her lap.

Laurel draws silent strength from the sight before her and is again reminded that these two girls are still kids; no matter how old Felicity can look with her dark makeup or how mature Sara can look when she dances or boxes. They haven’t graduated high school; haven’t held real jobs; haven’t had to think about moving out or starting college or getting married. They can’t drink – although technically neither can Laurel – or buy lottery tickets or own their own cars. Hell, Felicity is barely old enough to drive.

Laurel knows that she’s terrified, but she can’t imagine what it must be like for the two girls who sit in front of her. At least nothing in Laurel’s life is likely to change if something happens to their father. She would have the option to move in with Tommy or find her own apartment while she worked. Sara and Felicity didn’t have that luxury.

Sara would likely be shipped to their mother’s in Central City, away from her friends and her teams and her girlfriend, who she obviously loves. Who even knows what would happen to Felicity.

So Laurel tampers down her own fear and concern and promises to be their strong support system. She steels herself, vowing to only focus on the girls in front of her, and moves one hand to each of their shoulders to shake them awake.

*****

Lance wakes to a beeping noise so obnoxious it may even be able to rival the pen clicking his desk partner can’t seem to control at the precinct. It’s definitely enough to bring him into wakefulness, if only to be able to reach up and destroy its source.

After a little – okay, maybe a lot more than a little – disorientation, Lance realizes that the beeping is coming from a heart monitor in the corner. And that he’s hooked up to said heart monitor, as well as an IV. And that he’s lying on a hospital bed that is decidedly uncomfortable.

He can’t decide if the beds are uncomfortable because no one who worked there had bothered to try them or because it was a cruel joke to play on people who were already in pain. He thinks maybe a bit of both.

“Dad?”

He realizes that in his confusion, he hadn’t noticed that his three girls were perched in the two chairs on the opposite side of the room. Felicity, with her black and swollen eye, is sitting on the edge of one chair, clearly feeling awkward and unsure. Laurel sits back in the other chair, her face the epitome of calm and collected with one arm thrown around Felicity’s shoulders, while Sara grins widely from her place on Laurel’s lap.

His girls.

He feels like he can breathe a little easier, knowing all three of them are safe and sound and taking care of each other.

“Hey girls,” he rasps out. _How long has it been since he spoke last?_ “Are you three okay?”

He can hear Sara snort from across the room.

“Yeah, Daddy. _We’re_ fine. _You’re_ the one who just had a heart attack. Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” he can’t help but smile. “They’ve got me on the good stuff. I feel nice and floaty.” He winks and sees all three girls smile.

_Good. They look like they’re due for some smiles._

“And we’re going to keep you ‘nice and floaty’, for a few more hours, Detective, before we send you home with some blood pressure and pain medication,” the doctor says as he enters the room. “It’ll be pretty strong stuff, so you’ll be a little limited for a while. The pain medication may cause you to feel disoriented or drowsy, so it will be important to avoid operating heavy machinery while you’re on it. With both medications it will be important to avoid alcohol and narcotics. You should only need the pain medicine for a few days, but the blood pressure medicine will be pretty definite until we see some improvements.”

Lance catches Sara and Felicity casting worried glances to Laurel out of the corner of his eye, and he feels a little proud when Laurel easily appeases the two younger girls with a quiet smile and a nod.

But when Felicity and Sara look away, Laurel’s eyes meet his. Her face is still calm, but there’s a harshness in her eyes, like she’s trying to tell him or warn him about something…

Then he gets it. No alcohol, the doctor had said. And Laurel was going to hold him to it.

*****

Sara breathes significantly easier when they’re allowed to bring their father home that night.

She’s been smiley and supportive since she arrived at the hospital, but as they drive home in Laurel’s car (Ollie had dropped it off for them sometime that morning), she can fully admit that she had been petrified.

Less than 48 hours ago, she had remembered how much she loved soccer when she was going for the ball and “accidentally” but unapologetically kicked Isabel Rochev in the shin. (Really – though Sara will never admit it – she had noticed that Isabel hadn’t worn her shin guards, after making several comments about “Sara’s party-girl sister”.) Less than 35 hours ago, she had been worried that she would make all the wrong calls as varsity soccer captain, lead her team into a losing season, and ruin everyone’s senior year. And less than 24 hours ago, she had been sleeping in her bunk above Nyssa’s in a camp cabin in Coast City, dreaming about killer bunnies.

Then everything had changed when Laurel called.

Suddenly she was rushing back to the cabin from the counselor’s tent, crying and unceremoniously shaking Nyssa awake; begging Nyssa to stay with her and take her home. Her only saving graces were the deep breathing exercises Nyssa’s father had taught them when he had been studying cultural relaxation techniques. She managed to make herself go through the exercises while they drove back to Starling, and they gave her the faux sense of calm she needed to be brave at the hospital.

But without the pressure to stay strong for her sisters, Sara allows herself to feel the worry she had repressed. She gives herself the 25 minute car ride home to feel all the negative emotions, and then wills them away when the car finally slows to a stop in the driveway.

She practically bounces out of her seat, throwing open the door and running to unlock the front door of their house so Laurel can help their father inside more easily. She rushes in when the door is unlocked, smiling at the familiar smell and sense of _home_. She must have missed sleeping in a real bed more than she thought.

After Laurel volunteers to sleep downstairs to keep a close watch on their father, who’s sleeping on the couch until further notice, Sara pulls Felicity with her towards the stairs and their shared room so they can sleep.

*****

When Felicity finally makes it up the stairs on sore and blistered feet, she sighs and combs a hand through her hair.

She can hear the familiar sounds of Sara simultaneously brushing her teeth and humming whatever song is stuck in her head, and she smiles. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed Sara’s presence in the house. Her constant movement and easy smiles had quickly become something that Felicity needed to calm herself after a long night or a panic attack. Her snoring at night helped Felicity fall asleep and avoid dreaming. Her invitations to go out nearly every night helped Felicity to feel like less of a loner and a burden. She’s missed Sara, and she’s glad Sara’s back, even if it was under terrible circumstances.

Circumstances. _Oh god._

She hasn’t let herself think about the attack since she broke down in Laurel’s arms and begged her to call Tommy. She had spent the majority of the rest of her time at the hospital asleep, and any time awake was spent drinking coffee and worrying about her adoptive father. Now that he was home safe…

The trembling started in the fingers of her right hand, but she refused to let panic overtake her again. She had cried too many times in one night over the same thing, and it was _not_ going to happen again. She settled on using her nervous energy to move around hers and Sara’s shared space, pacing and reorganizing the clothes in their closet.

She can’t tell if Sara is just getting ready for bed extraordinarily slowly or if her internal clock is being thrown off by the sheer amount of cortisol running through her body, but she just wants Sara to come back and start snoring so she can sleep.

After what feels like hours later, Sara enters the room and takes a moment to remake her bed before fixing a hard stare at Felicity. Felicity shift uncomfortably, but decides to wait for Sara to say something before she starts getting defensive. She knows too well that rambling before a conversation has even started can lead to a lot of awkward moments.

Sara makes no move to speak with her, but grabs her arm and pulls her to one side of the twin bed.

“Lay down, Flick. It’s okay.”

*****

When Sara enters hers and Felicity’s room, she can’t help but notice that Felicity is seriously freaked out. She’s pacing, moving clothes in the closet, and remaking her mattress on the floor for the fifth time in the span of two minutes. She’s only stopped moving once or twice to inspect her handiwork in the closet, but Sara notes that her pauses didn’t last long and were paired with Felicity biting her nails.

Felicity’s shoulders visibly loosen when Sara moves into the room, but Sara knows she’s still too tense to sleep. Sara stares at her, willing her to stop moving and take a deep breath, but her staring has seemed to have the opposite effect. Instead of relaxing, Felicity tenses like she’s preparing to fight.

And then Sara realizes that Felicity _is_ getting ready to fight. She’s still thinking about those kids in the alley that spent their night chasing her down and beating her until she passed out.

Suddenly Sara knows what to do.

After her mother had left, Felicity had spent so many nights sharing the bed with her and holding her hand. It made Sara feel safe, like she wasn’t abandoned and alone in the world. So that’s what she was going to do for her little sister.

Sara moves into Felicity’s space and takes her arm, gently pulling her to the edge of her little mattress and carefully pressing against her shoulders in an attempt to lay her down. When Felicity hesitates slightly, Sara tells her to lay down; that it’s okay.

Satisfied that the sixteen-year-old is situated, Sara crosses to the other side of the mattress and eases herself down. She pulls the comforter over them both, grasps Felicity’s hand in the darkness, and smiles when she feels Felicity’s head rest against her shoulder.

“I love you, Flick.”

“You too, Sara.”

*****

In her dreams, Felicity sees the two girls who aided in her attack. They loom over her menacingly and she feels the fear seep into her very bones. One cracks her knuckles before cocking an arm back to land punches to her face, but it’s the other girl who’s tearing harsh sobs from Felicity’s throat. The other girl doesn’t make any move to hurt her; just stares at her like she can see into her soul. And Felicity is pretty sure she can, because the girl’s pupils dilate and suddenly every insecurity Felicity’s ever had is spilling from her lips.

 _You’re worthless_ , she says. _No one has ever wanted you. You’re going to be alone forever. Who could possibly ever love you? You’re too much like us_ , she says, crouching down in front of a now black-eyed Felicity. _No friends, no family, no one who cares enough to check if you’re even alive. And here is where you’re going to end up. Just like us._

That’s usually when Felicity wakes, eyes flying open and silent tears streaming from her eyes. Sara woke with her the first two times the nightmare had thrown her back into consciousness, but Sara’s body quickly adjusted to allow her the sleep she desperately needs. So Felicity wakes up a third and fourth time alone.

Felicity once again glances at the clock over a sleeping Sara’s shoulder, and realizes that she’s spent six hours trying to find restful sleep that hasn’t come. She’s still wrapped in Sara’s arms, which brings a small smile to her face. Maybe Sara can’t wake up with her anymore, but even in sleep, Sara’s protecting her from the outside world.

A sigh pulls from Felicity’s lips before she bites her lower lip and weighs her options.

_Is it worth staying in bed when I know the nightmares are going to come back?_

She decides that a few more hours of sleep will do her no good if they’re not restful, and slowly extricates herself from the leg and arms Sara has wound around her. She carefully and silently moves inch by inch away from Sara until she can swing a leg around the side of the bed and step carefully towards the door. She’s praying that she won’t wake Sara up as she cautiously opens and closes their bedroom door, and breathes out a sigh of relief when she doesn’t hear a pause in Sara’s snoring.

Felicity tiptoes down the hallway, believing that her years of sneaking around a hungover Donna Smoak will help her avoid waking Laurel and her dad downstairs, before she’s stopped in her tracks.

She catches a flash of dark hair in her periphery, and starts to cower before she realizes that it’s just her reflection in the dark hallway mirror.

 _It’s just you,_ she thinks, a little breathlessly. _It’s not those girls from the Glades. Just you._

Her heart picks back up to its normal rhythm, but she can still feel the vestiges of terror working their way through her system. Reaching a hand out to steady herself against the wall, Felicity takes comfort in the cool plaster against her skin and shakes off more and more of her exhausted panic. Once her breathing has returned to normal, she decides it’s time to take action against her fear.

Maybe she can’t fight the nightmares or the random panic attacks or even the kids who attacked her in the Glades, but she can stop being afraid of her own reflection.

With a newfound resolve that helped Felicity feel more like herself than she had in days, she cautiously makes her way down the stairs to find Laurel and ask her for a favor.

*****

Laurel’s night has been nearly as restful as Felicity’s.

The nightmare of her father accusing her of his death in the Glades repeated itself twice behind her closed eyelids, until it was replaced by the images of her mother blaming her for the divorce, Sara hating her for existing, and Felicity’s haunted eyes staring at her from across the sidewalk in the Glades.

Laurel has to admit it’s the last image that has kept her from going back to sleep. She does feel like she played a major role in her parents’ divorce, and does truly believe that Sara has a right to hate her for how she’s been acting for years now, but those are both how she _feels._

She _knows_ without the shadow of a doubt that Felicity’s current condition is her fault.

Her dream of Felicity doesn’t include the blame and guilt that the other dreams dangle in front of her, but somehow that makes it so much worse. Felicity just sits on the sidewalk in the Glades, eyes piercing into Laurel’s soul as she waits for someone to come and rescue her. She’s not wearing her dark makeup, but one eye _is_ blackening as she waits. She’s not crying; she’s not being attacked; she’s not yelling. She’s not doing anything but sitting on a curb, looking entirely too young to be there alone. She has years of misery written on her face, and she looks entirely like a child whose parents had forgotten her.

When Laurel approaches, Felicity holds her gaze and whispers, “I was waiting for you. They hurt me, and I was waiting for you, but you didn’t come.”

There’s no accusation in her voice, just pain.

Laurel’s eyes fill with tears, and Felicity rises from her position to wrap her arms around Laurel. She tells her it’s okay. That’s she’s forgiven and that they can be sisters.

When Laurel wakes, she feels so guilty and miserable that her despair threatens to drown her where she lies.

After two hours of debating whether or not sleep is worth the pain of her nightmares, Laurel decides to make coffee and read until her father wakes and needs her assistance.

She moves into the kitchen and starts the coffee maker, leaning against the cabinets and for once letting her guilt swallow her whole. She thinks about how awful she’s been to her parents, how often she hadn’t been home when Sara was clearly struggling with her parents’ fighting, how many late nights she spent drinking and disappointing her father. She thinks about the party where she had left Tommy to talk and dance and drink for hours with Ollie, hoping to make Tommy jealous enough to leave Felicity’s side and find her. She remembers several nights of trying to drive Tommy crazy because she wanted a reaction. She wanted his undivided attention. She wanted Tommy to tell her that she was the most important thing to him. She wanted him to tell her that he loved her.

_And now he’ll never tell me he loves me again. I ruined it._

She hasn’t stopped thinking about Felicity; how scared she had been at the hospital; how long she had spent clinging to Laurel like she was her protector and not the person who had hurt her in the first place.

Tears are falling unchecked, but she can’t find it in her to care, until she hears someone call her name.

*****

When Felicity finally makes her way down the stairs, she can’t help but smile at the sight of her dad passed out on the couch. He’s snoring as deeply as Sara, one arm thrown over his head as the other one hangs limply down over the side of the couch.

Her smile falters when she notices that Laurel’s not asleep on the other couch. She starts to worry, casting glances around the room to see where the oldest girl might be, when she hears the coffee maker in the kitchen.

She tiptoes carefully around a sleeping Lance and makes her way towards Laurel, but pauses in the doorway at the sight before her.

Laurel’s crying. One hand is pressed against her heart, her other arm twisted around her midsection like she’s holding herself together. Tears cascade down her cheeks and she rests her body weight against the countertop.

Felicity’s never seen Laurel cry, not like this, and the sight unsettles her a lot more than it probably should.

 _No wonder she needed to hate me so much,_ Felicity thought, recalling Tommy’s words at the party. _She’s falling apart and no one even noticed._

She knows Laurel would be embarrassed to have Felicity see her like this, so she calmly waits, hidden in the doorway, for Laurel’s sobs to begin tapering off before she calls to her.

“Laurel?”

Her oldest adoptive sister’s head whips around, and she’s dabbing at her cheeks furtively before she meets Felicity’s eyes.

“Hey, Lis. Can’t sleep?”

Felicity shakes her head and moves to sit in one of the chairs surrounding the table next to Laurel.

“Actually,” Felicity starts, now a little unsure of her plan. “I kind of have a favor to ask you.”

“Anything.”

Felicity smiles sadly, knowing now that Laurel is going to put everyone’s needs before her own to assuage some of her pain. Felicity’s tried that before and she knows it doesn’t end well.

She makes a mental note to talk to Sara about that later.

“Well…I was just thinking that…umm…”

_Frack. What if she thinks this is a bad idea? Who’s going to watch their dad if they leave? What if Laurel doesn’t want to help her?_

She pulls on a strand of dark hair and twists it while she collects her thoughts, feeling her eyebrows crinkle the way it does when she thinks too hard.

She breathes in deeply and lets out her next statement in one breath.

“Well, I’m still thinking about what happened last night, and I was thinking that maybe I would feel better if I looked different? I mean, I still feel and look the way I did when they…umm…and I kind of look like the girls that were there, you know? And I know school is starting soon and I kind of don’t want to be who I used to be before I came here, so…umm…”

Laurel blinks several times before she interrupts.

“So…you want to look different. Like changing your hair?”

Felicity nods, not knowing what to expect from Laurel.

Laurel’s brows scrunch together for a second before her face morphs into the calm, big sister face that Felicity had grown to rely on at the hospital.

“And you’re sure this is what you want?”

Felicity nods again.

“Okay. We’ll wait until Sara wakes up so she can help dad if he needs it, and then we’ll see what we can do.”

Felicity basks in the feeling of relief flooding over her, and she decides that she could really love having Laurel as her sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I’m an undergrad psych major, so while I’ve taken a couple of watered-down neurobiology classes, my medical knowledge is ridiculously limited. I was a pre-med student for a semester but that ended disastrously because the cadavers gave me nightmares. So medical inaccuracies (including the prescriptions and side effects/limitations for various medications) are to be expected. I just used what I wanted for the story. My bad, in advance.
> 
> And sorry for all the angst, but in the show Laurel had a lot of guilt that wasn't addressed as much as it could have been, so I decided to roll with it. 
> 
> As always, feel free to leave kudos and comments!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity changes her appearance, and decides to take matters into her own hands after noticing that Laurel won’t call Tommy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with the story, guys! Honestly I adore your comments and I’m so grateful for your kind words. You guys are the best!
> 
> This chapter is a lot fluffier than previous chapters because my friend and I made a deal that I would write fluff and she would write angst. Writing fluff is apparently really difficult for me, because this chapter took forever. I’m still not entirely happy with how it turned out, but it’s done! Hope you like it!

Blinking up at the sheer number of hair dyes lining the shelves in front of her, Felicity admits that this may be the worst idea she’s ever had. And in her sixteen years, she’s made some pretty questionable decisions. None of which have felt as incredibly daunting as the task ahead of her.

“Do you know what you’d like to change your hair color to?” Laurel asks her, as if sensing her distress.

She catches her bottom lip between her teeth, weighing her options before she responds.

“Blonde, maybe? I kind of just want it as different as I can get it… Do you think that would be possible? I mean, lifting…all _this_?” she asks, sectioning out a piece of her hair and twisting it before meeting Laurel’s eyes again.

Laurel’s brows knit together as she eyes the various dyes, but her eyes are calculating. Felicity can see the plans forming, and she feels a little bit better.

It still sometimes catches Felicity off guard, how often she feels at ease with Laurel. She can’t quite forget the words Laurel had spat at her that night after the party, but she knows that the sad, angry, abandoned girl who had channeled her anger at Felicity was not the girl that stood before her now. She knows Laurel just needed a way to release some of her anger, and honestly she can’t blame her. God knows Felicity had tried using anger as a coping tactic, as ineffective as it proved to be. Even if something had to happen to Felicity to have Laurel snap out of it, she’s glad it did.

Maybe Felicity’s getting used to having attachments. And maybe it’s not so bad; having people who she knows won’t abandon her.

“Okay, Lis… If blonde is what you want, we’re going to have to do some color remover treatments first, and then a lot of bleaching to get it light enough to take you to the salon…”

*****

Laurel sounds so much more confident than she feels. She’s confident enough in her ability to read directions that she’s sure she can lift Felicity’s hair, at least to a medium brown that a professional could bleach to blonde. But looking at the bleaching kits lining the shelves, Laurel is launched back six years.

Helena Bertinelli, Laurel’s best friend in seventh grade, had asked for Laurel’s help to dye her hair purple, knowing her uptight father would hate the extreme color. And, for reasons Laurel can no longer recall or validate, she had agreed. She still has no idea why she and Helena had thought that, at thirteen, they were capable of dyeing her hair without incident; she just remembers having an undisputed teenage confidence and the resolve to help her friend. She remembers mixing chemicals strong enough to burn her nose, using them to cover Helena’s hair, and watching black hair lift to a muddy brown. Then she added the purple hair dye. The hair dye that she had realized, belatedly, only contained two of the three necessary boxed ingredients, because Laurel hadn’t read the directions carefully.

She remembers apologizing profusely to Helena, and recalls that their relationship had been under significantly more strain after that debacle.

But Laurel wasn’t thirteen anymore, and she could follow directions. Right?

_Well,_ she thinks. _If it all goes wrong, I can always take her to a salon._

*****

When Felicity is placed on a stool in front of the vanity in Laurel’s room, she takes a moment to survey the area.

The first thing Felicity notices is that the room is pink. A light, dusty pink that completely contrasts with the pale blue of hers and Sara’s room. It’s not covered in sports posters, and there aren’t clothes littering the floor. It’s neat and tidy, with scattered pictures of Laurel and her friends adorning the walls.

_It’s nice_ , Felicity thinks.

*****

Throughout the course of the day, Felicity gaped as her hair changed from black to deep brown, which shifted to medium brown, which shifted to light brown, until it eventually reached a light, sandy blonde color that Laurel deemed light enough to take her to a salon to even out.

*****

Laurel has to admit, she’s pretty proud of herself. It took two color remover treatments, five boxed bleaching kits, and a salon appointment to cover the slightly pink streaks leftover from her purple highlights, but Felicity finally seems happy with her hair.

Felicity hadn’t said how nervous the constant dyeing had made her, but Laurel could tell that she was anxious when each dye had only slightly changed her overall color. She also suspected that Felicity had felt a little bereft when the hair stylist had told her that they would need to cut off three inches to keep it healthy, but Felicity had been determined, so she got the haircut.

*****

When they return home from the salon, Felicity makes a point of taking off her dark makeup and her nose ring, but Laurel suggests that she keep the industrial piercing. She tells Felicity that it’s to help her stand out in a sea of high school students, but Laurel knows that it’s also partially because she wants Felicity to keep a piece of her past self.

Felicity smiles at Laurel’s thoughtfulness, and then proceeds to take out her contacts and place a pair of tortoiseshell glasses on her nose.

Laurel is surprised, not realizing that Felicity wore contacts. She feels the familiar sting of guilt, knowing how little time she had spent attempting to know her new sister, but decides to rectify that over the next few hours.

She discovers that Felicity had started wearing contacts when she was thirteen and her mother had told her that she “would be so much prettier without them”; that she had spent one summer feeding a neglected cat without her neighbor knowing; that she was incredibly gifted with computers; that her ex-boyfriend had just used her to get what he wanted.

They keep talking through dinner, only being interrupted once by Lance’s teasing that he “couldn’t believe this blonde teenager was his baby girl”, and the more Laurel gets to know Felicity, the more she realizes that she could really love having the little darling as her sister.

*****

That night, Felicity finds herself hesitant to ascend the stairs and attempt sleeping when she knows Sara won’t be home for at least two more hours. Without Sara’s constant snoring, the creaking of Sara’s bedframe as she tosses and turns, or her elbow pressed tightly and uncomfortably into Felicity’s back when they shared her small mattress, Felicity isn’t sure if sleep is even a possibility. She resigns herself to listening to music and possibly reading to pass the time before Sara gets home and restful sleep can be a potentiality once again. Then Laurel calls her name.

“Lis?”

Felicity’s head whips around, and she stares at Laurel with her head cocked slightly to the side.

“Hmm?”

“I was thinking about maybe watching a movie tonight…You know, since it’s still kind of early… Want to watch one with me?”

Felicity can’t help but smile. Laurel had not only gone to the store and calmed her racing heart at the sight of the hundreds of boxed dyes, but she had also wasted her entire day changing Felicity’s hair color dramatically, and took the time to understand her past and get to know her. And now Laurel wanted to spend her night watching a movie with her.

If Felicity had to guess how her life would have turned out when she left Vegas, this would have been nowhere on the list.

She would likely have guessed that she’d end up living with Cooper until she turned 18, and then they’d likely break up and she’d end up in her own apartment with a steady, boring job that earned her enough money to live. Maybe it wasn’t a glamorous life, but it was what she had come to expect for her future.

Now… Now, Felicity can’t believe that she has a real family. She has a dad who teases her about her bad personal style choices. She has a room that she shares with her sister; a sister who lets her tag along everywhere, even though she’s younger than the crowd Sara usually spends her evenings with. She has a sister who used her entire day to help her feel comfortable in her own skin; who is willing to stay up with her because she knows that Felicity isn’t used to sleeping alone. She has a home, and a bed – makeshift as it may be – and a school that she’ll be attending in less than a week, and the knowledge that her family loves her just as much as she loves them.

Felicity nods, a bit teary, in Laurel’s direction, and finds herself being tucked under one of Laurel’s arms. She pauses for only a moment, a flashback of the hospital unexpectedly playing in her mind, before she wraps an arm around Laurel’s waist.

She hears Laurel ask their father if he’ll be okay if they leave him alone for the night, and smiles when she hears him grumble, “I just had a heart attack, Laurel. I’m not an invalid”. There’s no heat behind his words, and Felicity turns her eyes to Lance to discover that he has an almost dreamy expression on his face. She has no doubt that he’s pleased with how close Laurel and Felicity have become. Lance hadn’t mentioned anything to the girls about their strained relationship in the past, but Felicity knows that it had worn at him; knowing that two of his three girls wouldn’t even speak to one another.

Now, wrapped around one another as they plan a movie night, Felicity can’t help but think about the image they must make. Picture perfect sisters. And Felicity absolutely loves it.

*****

Laurel releases Felicity as soon as they enter her room, moving to open a window and release more of the chemical smell that hadn’t quite dissipated. She motions to the bed and smiles quietly when she sees Felicity settle into her mattress with no other encouragement. Their conversations and time spent together today must have made the younger girl much more comfortable, and Laurel’s glad. She really hopes that they have a fresh start now.

She crosses back and finds her DVD player perched on top of her dresser, pulling it open and resting it on the bed before moving across the room to her DVD collection.

Laurel knows that Felicity isn’t _that_ much younger than she is – the age gap always feels wider when you’re the older sibling, she supposes – but she feels… _wrong_ somehow, picking out a movie with sexual content or a lot of cursing. She chalks it up to not knowing Felicity well enough to know if she’s comfortable with those things, but she knows that’s not entirely it.

Over the course of 72 hours, Laurel has really grown to love the little blonde darling camped out on her queen-sized mattress. She saw the way Felicity often smiled to herself when something good happened, like she couldn’t quite believe that it had happened to her. She saw the shine in her eyes when their dad teased her about being someone new without the dark makeup and black hair. She saw how readily she offered affection to Sara when she needed it; saw how confident and independent she could be once her mind was made up. Felicity is determined and kind and smart and exactly what their family needed.

So she can’t bring herself to choose a movie that has any content that could be seen as not suitable for children. Maybe it’s ridiculous. But it still doesn’t change the fact that Laurel chooses three Disney movies and places them on the bed in front of a waiting Felicity.

Laurel sees Felicity’s brows furrow as she looks through the options, but then Felicity’s face breaks into a grin when she spots _Beauty and the Beast_.

“Beauty and the Beast?” Felicity asks quietly, a smile still written on her face. “That’s one of my favorites.”

Laurel can’t help but smile back, because _of course_ that’s one of Felicity’s favorites. A smart, confident girl who offers herself up unselfishly; who is kind while still standing up for herself; who finds a family with strangers and rescues herself and those she loves in the end.

Laurel takes a moment to glance down at her youngest sister. No makeup, slowly fading black eye, bleached blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, in sweatpants and a ratty Nirvana t-shirt, glasses slipping down her nose as she stares down at her copy of _Beauty and the Beast_ like Sara had when they were children. She’s just so _young_. She’s so young, and she’s known so much heartache.

Laurel begins to tear up when she realizes that Felicity will never be that neglected, lonely, or let down again. She’s a Lance now, and she’s going to be taken care of for the rest of her life. Their dad’s overprotectiveness, Sara’s friendship, and Laurel’s fondness for her would see her through until she was old and grey.

“Laurel?” Felicity calls quietly, dragging Laurel from her contented musings. “Are you okay?”

Laurel dabs at her eyes, realizing that a lone tear had escaped while she was pulled to happier places. She raises her eyes to Felicity’s, smiles – truly smiles, in a way that makes her heart feel lighter – and traipses around to Felicity’s side of the bed to place a feather-light kiss to her hair.

“I’m great, Lis,” she replies honestly. “I’m just happy we’re sisters.”

Felicity looks truly taken aback by that statement, but then her expression softens.

“Me too,” she says shyly, but the admission is obviously an awkward one. She shifts uncomfortably for a moment, trying to find something to do with her hands, and then reaches to place the box for _Beauty and the Beast_ in Laurel’s palm.

Laurel doesn’t mention the nonverbal change in their conversation, just moves to open the case and slip the DVD into the DVD player.

As the movie queues up, Laurel stretches out on the mattress next to Felicity. She’s not close enough that Felicity would feel crowded, but she is close enough that Felicity could easily see the movie, and close the gap between them if she so desired.

Felicity moves in closer. She doesn’t curl into Laurel’s side, but she lays on her back, hands resting on her belly with her left arm pressed against Laurel’s right one. Her head tilts to the side to better see the movie and it rests inches from Laurel’s. Laurel shifts slightly, leaning her head sideways until it touches Felicity’s and moving the DVD player until it’s more comfortably rested between them.

*****

Felicity is content, and it’s a new experience.

Throughout her life, she can remember being scared, lonely, happy, determined, and a myriad of other emotions. But she can’t remember ever being this content; doing something so simple and normal but so important. It feels like she’s getting a slice of her childhood innocence back, and for now, she’ll take it.

*****

Felicity is quiet throughout most of the movie, but when she sees Belle crying as she tells the Beast she loves him, Felicity can’t help but think of Tommy and Laurel.

She can’t remember the last time Laurel had spoken to Tommy, but she’s pretty sure she hasn’t heard Laurel speak to anyone but Lance’s doctors over the phone for two days now.

_That’s weird, right?_

Felicity can’t remember one day going by without Laurel calling Tommy, even before, when she had spent most of her time out partying with him and Oliver. She’d spend the night out, but the mornings at their house were always filled with quiet, one-sided conversations between her and Tommy when she thought no one was listening. They’d always talked on the phone, every day, without fail.

*****

“Laurel?” Felicity finally asks when the end credits roll across the screen.

She waits for Laurel to hum before she continues.

“What’s happening with you and Tommy now? I mean, I know you guys got into a fight about…me…” she trails off, clearing her throat. “But…are you going to be okay? You two, I mean?”

She can’t help but notice Laurel’s tension and flickering eyes. It’s clear that she doesn’t want to talk about this with Felicity. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about it at all.

But Felicity feels like she has to know.

“Lis…it’s complicated.”

“Laurel. I’m three years younger than you, not three years old. I can handle complicated. I mean, look at my life,” she breathily laughs out. Then her voice and expression turn serious. “You can tell me the truth.”

“I’m not talking about this with you,” Laurel snaps, and Felicity starts to recoil, before she sees Laurel’s face relax again.

Laurel makes no move to speak with her, just takes out _Beauty and the Beast_ and places _Sleeping Beauty_ in the DVD player before repositioning herself to where she was before.

Felicity’s face falls, but she doesn’t try to move from Laurel. Within half an hour, Felicity is fast asleep.

*****

When Sara returns home around two am – hours past curfew, but what her father didn’t know couldn’t hurt her – she pads her way quietly up the stairs, decides that going one night without brushing her teeth won’t kill her, and collapses onto her bed. She kicks the comforter off of her legs and pulls the sheets up to her neck before she has the distinct feeling that something is wrong.

She turns on her side, expecting to see a lightly sleeping Felicity, but the mattress is still made and devoid of her sixteen-year-old sister.

Sara sighs and throws her legs over the mattress. She’s gotten as used to sharing a room with someone as Felicity has, and she knows she won’t fall asleep without hearing Felicity’s steady breaths less than a foot away.

She hadn’t seen Felicity downstairs, so she assumes she must be in Laurel’s room.

When she cracks open the door, Sara’s face splits into a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. Felicity is dead asleep, her face shoved into her pillow and one arm hanging off the side of the bed. On the opposite side, Laurel lays close to the edge of the mattress on her back, arms folded neatly over her stomach and sleeping peacefully.

_Perfect_ , Sara thinks. _Just enough room for me._

She throws her body over the mattress until she’s safely nestled between her two sisters, tucking herself underneath the comforter and falling into a deep sleep in minutes.

*****

When Quentin Lance risks going up the stairs to check on Laurel, who hadn’t slept in this late since he’d had his heart attack, he’s greeted with a beautiful sight. All three of his girls are curled up together on Laurel’s queen-sized mattress, looking every bit as beautiful and peaceful as he could ever hope for.

If his eyes start to blur with tears, he won’t tell anyone.

*****

It isn’t until the lights to hers and Sara’s shared room are turned off the following night that Felicity voices her concerns about Laurel and Tommy.

“Sara?” she calls out, hoping that Sara hasn’t fallen asleep as quickly as she normally does.

Felicity gets a groan in response, and decides that it’s invitation enough to begin speaking.

“When was the last time Laurel talked to Tommy?”

“I don’t know, Flick. It’s late. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

Felicity can hear Sara turn on her side in an attempt to end their conversation, but Felicity feels like she’ll break apart if she holds back her worry any longer.

“Sara…you don’t think it’s my fault, right? That she won’t call Tommy?”

Sara’s silent for a moment before Felicity hears her mattress shift. She suddenly hopes that Sara’s simply shoving the covers over her head in an effort to tune her out, because she doesn’t know what she’ll do if Sara tells her that it _is_ her fault.

Sara’s legs swing over the side of her bed and she carefully pads to Felicity’s mattress, crawling in close and pushing until Felicity is turned on her side, facing her. Sara’s hand reaches across the sheets to knot itself with hers, and she takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Flick, I can promise you that whatever’s happening with Tommy and Laurel isn’t on you. They’ve fought before. Like a million times, actually.”

“But this is different,” Felicity interrupts. “They’re not fighting. They’re not _talking_. It was really weird at the hospital before. It was like they were trying to avoid each other.”

“It’s only been a few days. Just give it time.”

“But-”

“Give it time. There’s nothing you can do anyway,” Sara sighs as she makes herself comfortable on Felicity’s mattress. Within minutes, Sara’s snoring.

_Nothing she can do, huh?_

_Like hell there isn’t._

*****

Felicity waits until she knows she’s alone before calling Tommy. With Laurel taking their father to his cardiology appointment and Sara going to Nyssa’s, Felicity knows that now is her chance to convince Tommy to patch things up with Laurel.

Felicity is a literal genius. She knows that Laurel won’t appreciate having her little sister meddle in her love life, especially since she didn’t want to talk to Felicity about their relationship in the first place, but Felicity also can’t sit idly by, knowing that having Tommy in her life would make Laurel so much happier.

She can also admit that her intentions aren’t completely altruistic. While she does want Laurel to be happy, she _is_ still afraid that her reaction to Laurel’s words is the driving force behind their lack of communication. Laurel shouldn’t have been that horrible to her, but Felicity knows that she shouldn’t have run away, either.

That whole night was a mess, and Felicity is beyond content to pretend it never happened.

She only hopes Tommy is willing to do the same.

When her call is connected, Felicity tells the housekeeper that her name is Felicity Lance, knowing that Tommy would be told a “Miss Lance” is on the phone.

_Here goes nothing._

*****

“Laur?” Felicity hears when Tommy finally picks up the receiver. She can’t help but note the hopeful tone in his voice, and she’s a little sad to disappoint him. She doesn’t really know Tommy, but he’s never been anything but kind to her.

“Umm…well, no, not exactly. Well, not at all, actually. It’s Felicity.”

“Felicity? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, actually I’m great. Umm…I’m not really calling for me, though.” She pauses and steels herself for his anticipated argument before sharing the information she’s not sure he’ll hear. “It’s for Laurel.”

“Kid…”

“I’m not a kid, and I’m not stupid. You love her, and she loves you-”

Tommy cuts her off with the ridiculous “It’s not that simple” excuse that Laurel had given her, but Felicity makes quick work of shutting him down.

“Look,” she says. “Tell me right now that you don’t love Laurel and I’ll hang up and never bother you again.”

The silence that follows is so heavy Felicity can feel the weight settle against her heart.

_Please don’t end this because of me,_ she silently begs. _Please don’t let my stupid decision to run away ruin what you had. I don’t know if Laurel will survive it._

Felicity starts to settle some, even when the pause continues to drag on into uncomfortable silence. Then she smiles.

He can’t do it. He can’t say he doesn’t love her.

A deep sigh carries over the airwaves.

“How is she?”

“She needs you, Tommy. A lot more than she’ll admit.” Felicity sighs, not quite sure how much she wants to share of Laurel’s personal life. She doesn’t want Tommy to think any less of her sister, who has also been working tirelessly to fill the void left by Sara’s and Felicity’s absent mothers. She decides not to tell him how often she finds Laurel crying when she thinks she’s alone; how often Laurel forgets about herself to make sure Felicity and Sara are taken care of.

“She’s trying to be strong for the rest of us,” Felicity continues, “especially since dad’s been down for the count with his heart… But I think she’s worse than she lets on.” She pauses before adding, “She’s takes care of us. We want to take care of her too, but she won’t let us. Maybe she’d let _you_.”

*****

“Flick, someone’s at the door,” her father calls from his seat on the couch.

“Oh, umm…I think Laurel should get it,” Felicity says as nonchalantly as she’s able, which, admittedly, is not that nonchalant.

Lance groans. “It’s one of the rich kids, isn’t it?”

Felicity twists her hands in front of her and avoids his gaze, before awkwardly mumbling, “I’m gonna go get Laurel.”

She can hear her dad muttering about spoiled rich kids with their heads shoved up their asses as she climbs the stairs towards Laurel’s room, and she can’t help the chuckle that escapes.

She stands in front of Laurel’s bedroom door, takes a deep breath, and knocks. She hopes that her message will be well received, but Laurel _is_ the one who avoided Tommy for three days so maybe this wasn’t the best idea…

But the door swings open and she knows she’s made the right decision. Laurel has obviously been crying again, a common occurrence since the night Felicity had run away. Her eyes are rimmed red and her breathing is uneven, but Felicity has to admit that Laurel is doing a remarkable job of hiding any unhappiness from her. Laurel plasters a warm smile to her face and touches Felicity’s arm lightly.

“Hey, Lis. Someone at the door?”

“Yeah…umm…it’s for you, actually.”

Felicity shuffles back and forth on unsteady feet before she notices Laurel’s eyes are narrowed at her.

“Lis.”

Felicity makes an honest effort to avoid Laurel’s gaze. She twists the ends of her ponytail, turns ever-so-slightly away from the doorway, and purses her lips. She even attempts turning her focus toward the ceiling, as if it has suddenly become Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel.

“Felicity.”

“ _Fine_ ,” she huffs out, returning her attention to her older sister. “I called Tommy.”

“You _what_? Felicity, I told you it was none of your business!”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But since it was my fault you two weren’t talking in the first place-”

“Woah,” Laurel interrupts. “Who told you it was your fault?”

“Well…no one, I guess. But I assumed-”

“Lis. What happened between Tommy and I is personal, and definitely has nothing to do with you. You didn’t do anything, I promise.”

Felicity breathes a little easier. “Okay. Well, Tommy’s downstairs. He really wants to talk to you.”

*****

Laurel can’t decide if she wants to kiss or yell at Felicity for calling Tommy.

She’s wanted to speak to him – _really_ speak to him – since the night of the party, but she’s also not sure how to explain. She wants to tell him that she’s not that girl anymore, that she’s changed, that she’s a good sister now, but she’s not sure Tommy will believe her.

She starts to panic that Tommy only came here to break up with her, but she doesn’t give herself time to dwell on it. Tommy is _here, now_ , and Laurel really wants to see him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So – funny story – my nightmare of a hair color change last month actually inspired some of this story. I lifted my hair from super dark red to blonde, and it was not a picnic. It was several color remover treatments, two or three boxed blonde dyes to lift it, and then two salon appointments and five inches off to make it look normal and not completely fried.
> 
> I’m not sure if it’ll be in the next chapter or the one after, but Olicity moments are coming soon!
> 
> Hope you liked it! As always, feel free to leave kudos and comments!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurel and Tommy try to work through their problems, and Felicity is dragged to a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! Real life’s just been doling out a little more than I can handle lately, and because of that, updates might be a little far between in the future.
> 
> I’m not super happy with the writing in this chapter, but I could not edit anymore. This chapter’s a little shorter than the rest, but it finally includes a teeny amount of Olicity!
> 
> Thanks for the comments and kudos! I seriously adore them, and now I finally have the time to respond to comments! Hope you like it!

When Laurel makes her way down the stairs, Felicity trailing slightly behind her, she almost laughs at the sight that greets them.

Her father is sitting on one couch, fixing a hard glare on Tommy, who sits on the edge of the opposite couch and keeps his gaze firmly fixated on the floor. It’s like a scene out of a teenage Rom-Com, and Laurel would find that totally ridiculous – and maybe a little insulting – if her heart wasn’t hammering in her chest.

She hears Felicity let out a giggle behind her, and Laurel feels a little more relaxed.

When they finally make it to the base of the stairs, Laurel catches Tommy’s eye and motions for him to join her in the backyard.

Lance starts to protest, but Laurel gratefully notes that Felicity sits next to him, asking if he wants to watch a movie and allowing Laurel to sneak out back with Tommy following close behind.

*****

When Laurel and Tommy are finally away from the disapproving tones and pointed glares of Detective Lance, Laurel is suddenly more unsure than she’s felt in her entire life. She doesn’t know how to explain the perspective she’s gained; not sure how to describe the nightmares that still plague her sleep; not sure how to explain just how sorry she is that she hurt him while she was hurting. She wants to tell him that she’s doing everything she can to take care of her two sisters, that she will _never_ again be the person she was the night of the Felicity’s birthday party. More than anything, she wants to tell him that she loves him and that she hopes she hasn’t ruined everything between them.

Laurel knows that she’s been cruel in using Ollie to make Tommy jealous. She knows that Tommy had sometimes worried that she would fall for Oliver again and leave him behind, but she also knows that she’s never loved Oliver the way she loves Tommy. She’s never loved _anyone_ the way she loves Tommy. She just doesn’t know how to tell him after the horrible things she’s done. She doesn’t think he’ll believe her even if she does tell him.

She holds a breath and attempts to gather her thoughts, but she hasn’t slept in days and now that she’s not taking care of her sisters she’s just so _tired_ and she knows that she’s done terrible things to Tommy and the guilt crashes around her again…

And then Tommy speaks, his voice full of unease and concern and something Laurel can’t place yet.

“So…I guess you know Felicity called me.”

“Yeah,” she smiles softly. “She’s very determined, that girl.”

Tommy can’t help but note the fond tone Laurel uses when she talks about the younger girl.

“She um…she thought it was her fault,” Laurel continues, not sure if this is how she wants to continue this conversation, but she knows that they need to talk – _really_ talk – now, before she loses her last nerve. “That we’re…how we are now. Which it obviously isn’t, because it’s my fault.”

*****

Her voice cracks on the last word, and Tommy has to restrain himself to avoid reaching out to her.

Yeah, Laurel’s been a terrible person and she’s spent more time than he’s even admitted to himself flirting with Oliver and driving him insane and purposely trying to hurt those around her to stop her own pain…

But Tommy loves her. More than anything else in his life.

Tommy had grown up in a household where nothing monetary was denied him. He grew up with nearly everything he could ever have hoped for, and his charming personality and wealth never left him wanting for friends or sex or conversation. And yet…nearly every person in his life had expected something of him. People expected charm and wit and gifts and everything that accompanied his playboy media persona. Except Laurel.

Tommy had never felt that he had needed to live up to Laurel’s expectations, because she knew who he was. She knew he wasn’t the playboy everyone made him out to be. She knew his darkest secrets; knew that he still missed his mother constantly; knew that he was more desperate for affection and verbal confirmations than sex; knew that he was so often jealous of his best friend and unsure if he would ever measure up to the expectations his father held of him. She knew the real Tommy, and loved him without expecting him to give her anything but himself in return.

He wants to comfort her so desperately, but he knows they need to talk first. He’ll always be in love with Laurel Lance, but he has to make sure that she’s still the person he fell in love with before he can fully commit. He wants to know if she’s someone that he can trust and respect for the rest of his life.

Looking at her now, he thinks of the hushed morning conversations over the phone. The whispered ‘I love you’s and sharing their dreams and all of the wonderfully gooey things that Tommy never imagined he would bring himself to do in a relationship. He remembers shared kisses and stolen glances and the night Laurel had come over on the anniversary of his mother’s death. He remembers everything he’s ever loved about her.

But he can also remember how hard the past few months have been. He remembers her drinking and leaving him at parties and spending less and less time just talking. He remembers watching her fall apart more times than he could count.

When he hears her voice break, he remembers Felicity’s words. _She’s trying to be strong for the rest of us. She takes care of us._

 _Who’s taking care of_ her? He can’t help but wonder.

The clear answer is no one, and that’s the problem. She’s been breaking apart for a while now, and no one noticed. Now, with Felicity’s attack and Lance’s heart, Laurel is forcing herself to walk across the broken glass, holding her family together while she crumbles.

“Are you…” Tommy starts, but he doesn’t know what he wants to ask. _Are you okay? Are you missing me? Are you mad that Felicity called me?_

He settles on the only question that matters.

“Are you still the same girl you were a week ago?”

*****

Laurel is truly taken aback at that question.

She had expected Tommy to yell, to tell her that she needs to figure out what her problem is and fix it. She hadn’t expected him to ask _that_.

Tears suddenly burn behind her eyes, and she tries to blink them away, but soon they’re falling with abandon.

“I’m not, Tommy,” she chokes out. “I swear I’m not. And I never want to be her again, I promise.”

She meets his eyes and she suddenly knows the emotion she hadn’t been able to place before. Love. He still loves her.

The realization nearly brings her to her knees.

Before she can question whether or not Tommy wants her close, she crosses the foot of space between them and throws her arms around his neck, pulling him to her. He bands strong arms around her waist, burying his nose in her hair and whispering ‘I love you’ and ‘it’s okay’ in response to her sobs of ‘I’m so sorry’.

They stay that way until they lose track of time, until everything but the two of them fades away.

But it can’t last forever.

A blonde head pops around the doorframe, severing the moment. A look in Tommy’s direction finds him looking genuinely upset, but Laurel actually feels peaceful and happy for the first time in days.

Because she knows this won’t be the only moment they get.

*****

Half an hour into the movie finds Felicity’s head resting on a clearly restless Lance’s shoulder as she tries – and fails – to pay attention to “The Mummy”. She’s not the biggest fan of the movie, but it’s one of her father’s favorites, so she had hoped that it would be enough to catch his attention and allow Laurel the time she needs to work things out with Tommy.

Apparently, not even “The Mummy” is enough to distract a cop whose daughter is out of his line of sight and with a boy.

“How long have they been out there?” Lance growls for the tenth time in the past five minutes.

“They need to talk, dad,” Felicity responds, also for the tenth time. “It’s important to Laurel.”

“Yeah well…it’s important to me to not end up a grandpa before I’m fifty.”

“Dad!”

“Why don’t you go check on them, Flick? Just make sure…uh…they’re _talking_.”

Felicity knows that if she doesn’t agree to “check in” on her sister and her boyfriend then their father will, so she resigns herself to likely interrupting a moment that she’s instigated.

_Please let it be a good moment._

When Felicity reaches the back patio, she sees Laurel and Tommy locked in a hug, swaying slightly and whispering to each other. She really doesn’t want to ruin this, but she knows Laurel really doesn’t want their father ruining it, either.

“Laurel? Tommy? Um…dad sent me out here to bring you back inside…I think he’s going to come out if you don’t.”

Felicity shifts uncomfortably. The moment she interrupted seemed to be a pleasant one, but she’s still not entirely sure Laurel has forgiven her for calling Tommy behind her back. She hopes so. She really does love being able to spend time with Laurel, especially since Sara spends so much time at soccer practice or at Nyssa’s.

She watches covertly as Laurel disentangles herself from Tommy, and smiles when she sees Tommy reach for her hand. The two – still clearly a unit, which makes Felicity grin like an idiot – make their way to her and the back door. The hand not intertwined with Tommy’s finds itself around Felicity’s shoulders, and Laurel places a small kiss to her hair before she whispers, “Thank you, Lis.”

*****

When Felicity wakes early from nightmares the next morning and pads down the stairs to make coffee, she can hear a muted, one-sided conversation in the kitchen.

It’s the first morning since her attack that she hasn’t caught Laurel crying before everyone else wakes, and Felicity feels almost overwhelmingly proud of herself. After days of having Laurel take care of her, she has finally able to return the favor.

*****

“School starts in two days, Flick!” Sara tells Felicity excitedly that evening.

“I know, Sara, but does that really mean I have to go to a party? Shouldn’t I be…I don’t know, worrying about a new school or how I’m going to graduate with my horrible attendance record or something?”

Felicity catches Sara rolling her eyes, and the action makes her smile. Sara always acts annoyed when she tries to back out of plans. Being a blonde, sporty socialite and having Gorgeous Laurel as an older sister has clearly taught Sara that parties are part of the high school experience; the dancing and drinking and talking the highlight of her young life. And she sometimes can’t believe that Felicity doesn’t feel the same way.

“You worry too much,” Sara says casually as she continues to blow dry her hair.

“Who’s going?” Felicity asks hesitantly.

“Everyone, Flick! That’s why it’s fun!”

“Will Oliver be there?” Felicity finds herself asking.

Sara raises an eyebrow suspiciously before turning her attention to Felicity.

“You have a thing for Ollie, huh?” Sara asks as she smiles.

Felicity almost laughs. “Umm…no. I can’t stand him actually.”

Sara narrows her eyes like she’s attempting to determine if Felicity is lying, and the resemblance between her and Laurel is almost scary. She must decide that Felicity is telling the truth, because she returns her attention to her hair.

“Ollie’s not that bad once you get to know him.”

“I somehow find that really hard to believe.”

“The night you met him…Laurel was being horrible to you. That probably tainted your first impression. He’s a party boy, but he’s a loveable dummy, too. You just have to give him a chance, Flick.”

Felicity makes a note to try and keep an open mind about Oliver, but she’s definitely going to try and avoid him as much as she possibly can.

*****

The noise is almost deafening when Felicity, Sara, and Laurel enter the Queen’s mansion. There are strobe lights and people dancing and people who have obviously already helped themselves to the complimentary drinks.

Felicity had decided that she would attend the party, because Sara had literally begged her to, but now she thinks it’s the worst mistake she’s ever made. It’s too loud, too dark, too cramped. She’s in one of Sara’s dresses, which suddenly feels entirely too tight. Sara has already left her and Laurel to find Nyssa, and Felicity can spot Tommy in the corner and feel Laurel start to shift away from her.

Felicity reaches for Laurel’s shoulder before she has a chance to move too far ahead, and Laurel turns back to her and tips her head in confusion. The panic must be written on her face, because the next moment, Laurel is grabbing her hand and leading her into the other room with Tommy trailing close behind.

The next room is only slightly less hectic, but being near Tommy and Laurel is definitely helping.

*****

When Laurel feels Felicity’s hand wrap around her shoulder, she initially assumes Felicity doesn’t want to be left alone at a party where she knows virtually no one. But when she turns to look at her baby sister, she feels incredibly stupid.

Felicity hasn’t been near this many people since she was attacked, and the panic on her face is evident. Laurel wastes no time in clasping her hand and leading her to the other room, pressing Felicity’s back into the corner and pulling Tommy next to her to block Felicity’s view of the rest of the room.

Laurel strokes a steady hand through Felicity’s curled hair as she comes back to herself. When Felicity’s breaths look more even – because Laurel could not possibly hear Felicity’s labored breaths over the sound of the music – she wraps her arms around the girl’s small frame, hoping that she’ll take the cue to try and match their heartbeats.

*****

Felicity’s arms reach around Laurel immediately, grasping the back of her dress as she breathes in time with her older sister.

 _God,_ she’s so glad Laurel’s here.

When she finally feels like she can breathe again, Felicity pulls back and notices Tommy’s presence for the first time. He stares at her and Laurel in confusion for a moment before confusion fades to that lovesick puppy look he reserves only for Laurel.

“I’m okay,” she mouths to the two of them.

Laurel looks unconvinced, and leaves one arm wrapped around Felicity’s shoulders as she guides her deeper into the house and places her on a couch in a room that doesn’t have blaring music. The room is littered with couples talking and making out, and the music in the other room can still be heard, but it’s not the deafening noise that terrified her before.

“Lis?” Laurel asks calmly.

Tommy waits quietly at Laurel’s side, his concern for Felicity showing clearly on his face, and Felicity is touched. Tommy, the nefarious party boy, is purposely avoiding a party to make sure Felicity is okay.

“I’m okay now,” she tells them, and she’s surprised to find that it’s true. “The noise and the flashing lights and how cramped it was…I…” she trails off.

“I know,” is Laurel’s response.

Felicity smiles.

“Go, make out, party, have fun,” Felicity tells them, waving them off.

“I don’t know, Lis. I-”

“Laurel. Seriously. Please. I’m fine here, really. Just…can you come get me here when you want to leave? I don’t…I don’t really want to go back down there by myself, you know?”

“You got it, kid,” Tommy tells her with his signature wink.

“I’m not a kid,” she smirks back, and Felicity finds herself alone at a party.

_Awesome._

*****

Felicity spends approximately ten minutes coding in her head (a habit she’s prone to when alone) before she’s pulled from her thoughts.

“Hello there, beautiful,” an admittedly seductive voice says from behind her.

She pauses. _That voice sounds so familiar…_

And when she turns, she’s face to face with Oliver Queen.

_Why oh why, God, does that boy have to be so gorgeous…?_

She knows his personality is still horrible, and she still hates him, but she can’t admit her night hasn’t gotten a little better after seeing his stupidly attractive face. Until he speaks.

“So what’s a girl like you doing sitting alone?”

Felicity can’t help the disgust that flows through her. How many girls had he used that on, tonight alone? She decides it must be some kind of joke, because Sara is dancing in the other room, Laurel is…well, _somewhere_ with Tommy, and Felicity is obviously sitting by herself in a room full of kissing couples.

She rolls her eyes. “My sisters dragged me to a party and then abandoned me. So here I am.”

“Hmm,” Oliver nods thoughtfully. “And who are your sisters?”

And then she gets it. Oliver doesn’t know who she is. He doesn’t remember the Goth girl who stood near Tommy as he and Laurel tormented her. He just thinks that she’s some blonde idiot that he can schmooze long enough to get her into bed.

Suddenly Felicity is beyond furious. She doesn’t really know if she has a right to be, because he _had_ only met her once, and she looks completely different now, but she is.  

“Wow,” she practically spits at him. “If anyone was going to know who my sisters are, I would assume it would be the sleazebag who _dated_ both of them.”

The idiot still looks confused. God, had he slept with so many sets of sisters that he honestly couldn’t remember hers? She knows she promised Sara that she would give Oliver Queen the benefit of the doubt, but _seriously_?

“…Felicity?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! As always, let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity talk, Laurel is not amused, and something is wrong with Sara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for still sticking with the story! I love the response this has gotten, and I’m seriously so incredibly grateful for your comments and kudos. You guys are the best!
> 
> I’m sorry this is so late! I got sidetracked writing another fic and then had a major relapse with my ED (which makes it ridiculously difficult to focus), so things have been pretty hectic lately. I think I may start writing shorter chapters (because, seriously, my attention span is half what it used to be), and hopefully that’ll mean more updates, but I can still pretty much guarantee that regular updates won’t be a thing.
> 
> This chapter is pretty short, but I still hope you like it!

“Felicity?”

“Oh look, the genius remembers,” she responds snidely as her arms cross heavily over her chest.

Rationally, she knows her anger is misplaced. She knows that Oliver hasn’t truly done anything to warrant her treatment of him, but she has officially hit her limit. She’s been abandoned at a party she never wanted to attend, sitting on an uncomfortable couch while couples bump against her in their haste to get closer, and now she’s being forced to speak with the jerk that set Laurel off the night of her birthday party from hell. And, even better, she’s come to realize that the jerk doesn’t even remember her.

It’s just another harsh reminder that she’s forgettable, ignorable, unremarkable.

Despite the barriers she’s erected around her heart to avoid the pain, it still hurts, and anger has always been her first response. Her eyes narrow as she takes in his startled expression and she tries to dissuade him from coming any closer.

“Does he also remember that I’m sixteen and not even remotely interested in sleeping with him?” she spits out, taking more pleasure than she probably should at the shocked expression that adorns his face.

He looks truly taken aback, raking his eyes over her features in his stunned silence. She can see him cataloging the newly blonde hair, the soft makeup and cherry lipstick that Laurel had let her borrow, the bright blue of her borrowed dress. She can see the way his brows slide together as his mouth moves, like he’s trying to say something but the words won’t form, and she decides to take pity on the boy who still hasn’t spoken anything but her name.

“Look, you know who I am now, you know that I’m not interested, so just move on to your next target and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

She sighs and rubs her temples, wishing she had worn her glasses instead of her contacts, and expects to hear the shuffling of a burley Oliver Queen moving away from her position on the couch.

Instead, she feels the cushion shift next to her as his weight settles between her and the arm on her right.

Her eyes shoot open and meet his, but her gaze is wary. She can’t think of an excuse for Oliver’s current closeness, but her experience thus far hints at something unfriendly.

He’s staring at her carefully, like he’s afraid that he’ll scare her if he moves too quickly or too closely, and she’s a little embarrassed to admit that he might. Her arms tighten across her chest as he moves half an inch closer.

“Mind if I sit here for a while?” he asks cautiously.

“Only if you tell me why.”

“I’m a little tired of the people here, to be honest. They bore me,” he responds carelessly, but she can tell he’s very purposely choosing his words. Whatever persona he’s adopted to fit into the crowd of drunken party-goers is (at least mostly) just that: a persona.

 _Huh,_ Felicity can’t help but think. _Maybe Sara’s right. Maybe there is a loveable dummy under that fake Playboy smile._

“Really? I find that a little hard to believe. Plenty of girls, music, and a truly ridiculous amount of alcohol if these two are anything to go by,” she states, gesturing to two girls who are clutching each other closely and sobbing their love for one another, “And you’re _bored_?”

“The idle rich are hard to entertain,” he smirks back.

“Clearly.”

*****

He’s not sure why he decided to stay with Laurel Lance’s sixteen-year-old sister rather than join the party rampaging through his house. He explains it away through boredom and tiredness, suspecting that his excuses may even partially be true, but a niggling in the back of his mind knows that those aren’t the only reasons.

Felicity just seems so… _real_.

She’s not using him to climb any social ladders; isn’t asking him to buy her gifts or goading him into talking about his wealth. She isn’t fawning over him or trying to kiss him or looking for a story to sell to the paparazzi. On the contrary, she looks like she’d rather be chewing off her own arm than getting to know him.

She’s obviously already formed her opinions and has no intention of changing them. Honestly, Oliver can’t blame her. If even half of the rumors he’s heard about himself in passing were true, he couldn’t imagine anyone choosing to spend time with him. And maybe her gaze shifts uneasily, her posture is beyond rigid and uncomfortable, and she’s desperately looking for someone – likely one of the Lance sisters – but it’s the first sign of genuine emotion he’s seen all night that’s uninspired by alcohol.

He eyes her carefully, taking note of the major changes in Felicity’s appearance. Her hair is blonde, her lashes aren’t rimmed in black, her dark clothes have been traded for a light blue dress that makes her eyes look impossibly blue. But, he notes, she still wears the guarded expression he’d seen the night of the party.

She looks ready to flee, and he still hasn’t decided his plan of action. He can’t sleep with her, which would normally be a significant deterrent. In all honesty, he tends to find little pleasure in socializing with anyone but Tommy or Laurel, unless he’s assured something in return.

He thinks hard, entertaining the idea of pushing the teenager to her breaking point to see if she would yell or cry, but the thought is quickly pushed aside. Laurel is still pissed as hell at him, and he doesn’t need to make it any worse by antagonizing the girl Tommy swears Laurel now adores. Maybe if he just…

_What?_

“So you’re not much of a party girl, huh?” he blurts out before he realizes he’s even speaking. He keeps his tone casual, uninterested, even a little sarcastic, but he’s surprised to find that he actually wants to know the answer.

“Are you kidding? Parties are definitely my thing. That’s why I’m out there dancing and getting completely wasted as we speak.” Her words are dripping with sarcasm and are accompanied by an impressive eye roll and shrug to her shoulders. For the first time that night, Oliver finds himself struggling against a genuine smile.

“Don’t take after your sisters then?”

“Well since we’re not biologically related and I’ve only lived with them for a few months, it would be hard to have already picked up all of their habits, don’t you think?”

He barks out a laugh, and it’s enough to divert her attention from the crowd and back to his face.

*****

Oliver Queen will not stop talking to her.

The longing looks being sent his direction from the beyond inebriated girls in the corner, the hushed conversations, and the subtle touches to his arms as high school girls strut by have not been lost on her. She hasn’t missed the girls in their early twenties peering at him from behind their boyfriends or even the shy waves being sent his direction from girls her own age in the other room. But despite the advances being made in literally every direction, he’s chosen to stay with her.

And the fact that she can’t figure out why worries her to no end.

She answers his questions, biting back the harsher responses she wants to deliver, but keeps her eyes fixed firmly on the other occupants in the room. Her eyes scan uselessly for one of her sisters, but they’re both gone. Both with their significant others, actually finding enjoyment in what she considers social purgatory.

When he laughs at something she says, she can’t help the way her eyes snap automatically to his.

“What’s so funny?” she asks, eyes already narrowing and her tone nearly malicious.

“It’s just…you really hate me, don’t you?”

She takes in his expression for the first time, his eyes alight with laughter, grin splitting his face, and she remembers how devastatingly gorgeous the boy really is.

It makes hating him a lot more difficult. But she’s pretty sure she’ll manage.

“Well you did decide to join the anti-Felicity squad without actually getting to know me. And then promptly forgot I existed. So…yeah. Wouldn’t exactly call myself your biggest fan.”

She thinks she might see his face fall the slightest bit before it slips back into the Playboy mask, but she writes it off quickly as wishful thinking. He opens his mouth to respond, but the words seem to die in his throat before he clamps his mouth shut and turns to the couple speedily approaching them. When her eyes follow Oliver’s line of sight, she nearly doubles over in relief.

 _Oh thank god_. Felicity has to literally bite her tongue to keep from blurting it out loud.

Advancing quickly towards her is her sister and her boyfriend, hands entwined while Laurel laughs at something Tommy’s said. Laurel’s dark hair tosses over her shoulder as her peeled laughter reaches Felicity’s ears, and Felicity can already feel the tension leaking from her shoulders.

Laurel and Tommy have finally come to save her. She can _leave_.

The moment Laurel spies Felicity, her face twists into that protective big sister expression Felicity has come to love. Scrunched nose, eyes slightly narrowed as her lips curl into a smile, like they share a secret no one but the Lance sisters can ever know. Felicity can feel her own mouth tugging at the corners in response.

But Laurel’s entire expression shifts when she sees Felicity’s party companion. Adoration shifts to shock which shifts to malice, and Felicity knows that Oliver is about to be in serious trouble. Despite her outright contempt for Oliver, she knows Laurel’s expression all too well, and she pities him.

Felicity stands abruptly, moving from him and toward her sister as fast as she can, but apparently it’s not quick enough for Laurel. Her oldest sister extends an arm, waiting for Felicity to take it before guiding her away from Oliver and taking a defensive step in front of her.

*****

“That pepper wasn’t hot, Merlyn.”

“I _told_ you, Laur, it wasn’t hot, I just have allergies!” he indignantly responds, but his laugh loses him the argument.

Laurel feels Tommy’s hand curl around hers as they walk and talk, making their way toward Felicity to guide her back to the car through the still raging party.

“Last time I checked, crying wasn’t a symptom of allergies,” she smirks back, and she can’t hide the blush that creeps onto her cheeks when he winks at her.

The entire room is filled with girls vying for his attention, spilling their drinks and whispering his name from their places around the house, but Tommy only has eyes for her. She’s not sure if she’ll ever get used to being this loved and adored. But she’ll definitely try.

“Okay, Doctor Lance,” Tommy rolls his eyes, “You’ve caught me.”

She laughs lightly, hair slipping over her shoulder as she catches his eye, and then they’re in the room where they had left Felicity.

Her gaze shifts, searching the room for her sister, and she sees the little darling’s eyes snap to hers, that little smile on her face. The tension in Felicity’s shoulders loosens some as they approach, and Laurel almost wants to laugh.

 _Felicity_ really _isn’t a party girl if she’s this excited to leave,_ she muses.

Then she spots _him_ , and nearly sees red.

Out of all the girls at the party – the redhead in the corner calling his name through a haze of vodka, Helena Bertinelli waving flirtatiously from behind her boyfriend, a blonde who puffs out her chest and cocks her head to the side when she thinks he’s looking – Oliver Queen has decided to go after her sixteen-year-old sister.

_Like hell._

Before she can justify or contemplate the sanity of her actions, Laurel pulls Felicity to stand slightly behind her, as if forming a physical barrier between Oliver and Felicity will keep them permanently apart. She glares as hard as she can at Oliver before she turns her back to him completely, fixing a careful watch on her younger sister. She has to take a calming breath before she can address her without snapping.

“Felicity, go with Tommy to the car. Sara’s already waiting for us. I’ll be down in just a second.”

She places a warm hand on Felicity’s shoulder, giving Tommy a significant look and waiting for Felicity to nod before watching them navigate through the crowd.

Felicity casts a worried glance over her shoulder before she’s out of sight, but Laurel’s attention is already on Oliver.

*****

When the music reaches its intended deafening level once more, the bass thrumming through her bones and stuttering her heart, Felicity fists her hands until she can feel the bite of her fingernails against her palm. The pain centers her and helps keep the panic from spiraling, but she knows that it’s Tommy’s presence at her side that’s staunching most of her anxiety.

She offhandedly wishes that her security detail back to the car included Sara or Laurel, but Tommy proves to be a decent substitute. He walks confidently toward the front door, easily maneuvering around dancers and overturned furniture, but he matches her stride and stands slightly behind her, his fingers resting lightly against the middle of her back. It’s such a small gesture of comfort and solidarity, but to Felicity, it feels like she has a guardian against a sea of strangers.

Felicity has to consciously remind herself to avoid throwing open the front door and sprinting from her soon-to-be her classmates before she leaves, calm and dignified (she hopes), the insanity of the party with Tommy in tow.

Once glance around the parking lot finds a clearly distraught Sara pacing the length of the car, clearly mumbling something angrily until she spots Felicity and Tommy walking towards her.

“Flick!” Sara cries, rushing toward Felicity and crushing her in a hug that leaves her gasping.

Felicity hugs back just as tightly, feeling Sara’s tears against her neck and feeling completely incapable of comforting her sister. She doesn’t know what’s wrong and has no comforting platitudes to share, so she resigns herself to holding Sara tightly and watching the front door carefully for any sign of Laurel.

Tommy pointedly tries to avoid their reunion. He’s clearly attempting to give them their space, and Felicity once again finds herself appreciating Tommy Merlyn, misunderstood party boy.

*****

Laurel finally emerges from the mansion, and her brows pull together in concern when she takes in Sara’s condition. She walks quickly to the two younger girls and pulls Sara from Felicity, tucking Sara under one arm as all four of them move to bundle themselves into the car.

The ten minute car ride passes in near silence. Tommy drives while Felicity sits shotgun, Laurel siting in the back with Sara tucked against her. Sara’s head is tucked in the space between Laurel’s neck and collarbone as her disjointed cries puncture the awkward silence.

Felicity is desperate to know what’s wrong, but, as she listens to Sara exhaust her tears and watches Laurel run a soothing hand through Sara’s hair, she knows that she’ll have to wait for the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> If you ever want to chat (and seriously, feel free), you can find me at taxingtaurus.tumblr.com.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurel and Felicity support Sara after she receives some depressing news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with this fic! I’m always surprised and super happy to hear that people are waiting for updates and love the story. You guys are amazing and I seriously appreciate the kudos and kind comments. Thank you!
> 
> I’m hoping to update more regularly, but I always say that and it’s always weeks before I update again. My bad. But I really do love writing this AU and I have at least 8 more chapters planned out, just not written. I basically just plan to write whenever I feel like it and keep this fic going for a while :)
> 
> In case anyone’s wondering, I’m basically ignoring the fact that Laurel died and am pretending that she’s on a beach somewhere with Tommy. She won’t be dying in this fic, because I refuse to accept it.

_Take care of Sara, forget about Oliver_ , is Laurel’s constant mantra as she pulls her younger sister closer and makes her way across the threshold.

But _God_ it’s hard.

She thinks back to her conversation with the cocky billionaire, where she waited exactly thirty seconds for Tommy to escort her baby sister across the dimly lit room before fixing her signature glare on her childhood friend. Ollie had regarded her carefully, his posture loose and comfortable, but his arms had been folded over his chest and the lines around his eyes had been too tight.

Laurel has to admit that seeing the calm, cool, collected Playboy uncomfortable under her menacing scowl had given her no small sense of pride and accomplishment.

 _Serves him right for hitting on a sixteen-year-old._ My _sixteen-year-old_ sister _._

“ _Seriously_ , Oliver?” Laurel spit out as soon as she was confident that Tommy and Felicity were out of earshot. “That’s my _sister_. My _sixteen_ -year-old _sister_. What, are you just trying to sweep through the Lance girls? Is it a _game_ to you? Because it’s not to me. Or to Sara, if she ever finds out about it.”

Oliver shifted slightly, but met her eyes easily and offered her a smirk.

“I wasn’t trying to sleep with your sister, Laurel. I was just bored and she was sitting alone. We _talked._ ” He rubbed his hands along his jeans before asking, “Is this because of the birthday party? Because you know I never actually _said_ anything, right? That was you, Laurel. So if you’re going to-”

“I know what I did,” Laurel responded finitely. Her eyes narrowed to slits and her hands clenched into tight fists near her sides. She felt crescents from her nails form against her palms, but the sting only slightly distracted her from the conversation.

Oliver’s head tilted slightly to the side, as if challenging her to continue, and she knew he was prepared to fight back.

Fighting had definitely never been the problem in their relationship.

She resigned herself to swallowing her anger. She knew that Sara was upset, knew that Tommy was waiting to drive them home, knew that Felicity was desperate to leave the party.

She dropped her voice threateningly low. “Stay away from Felicity.”

Laurel pushes aside the memory when Sara breaks into a fresh round of tears and throws herself through the doorway toward the kitchen and into their father’s arms.

*****

When Lance hears the telltale sounds of his daughters exiting rich kid Merlyn’s car, he hastily makes his way toward the kitchen to make coffee. It kills him to think of his daughters going to parties, and if he’s going to possibly be faced with two drunk daughters (Flick has told him on several occasions that she’s sworn off alcohol, and he believes her), then he definitely needs coffee.

He expects Sara to come running through the front door, hearing the shuffling that mean Sara’s dancing to whatever music is circling her head. He expects to hear Laurel giggling soft goodnights to Merlyn. He expects to hear Felicity’s heavy sigh and see the familiar slump to her shoulders that follows any prolonged social interaction with large crowds. What he doesn’t expect is to hear Sara’s sobs carry across the silence and feel her barreling into his chest and holding on tightly.

He holds on just as tightly as she exhausts her tears, and he looks around the room at the other occupants. Laurel leans against the far wall, arms folded tightly across her chest as she looks on in concern. To her right, Tommy shifts from foot to foot, clearly not sure if he’s still supposed to be here. Flick, Lance realizes quickly, is trying to make herself as small as possible in the kitchen doorway. She looks torn between giving Sara space and running to her aid, the conflicting feelings making her obviously uneasy.

None of them make any move to tell Lance what’s wrong with his seventeen-year-old.

He pulls back slightly when he hears Sara’s sobs begin to taper off and takes in her appearance for the first time. Her mascara is slightly smeared, her face red, blonde hair tucked behind her ears making her look younger than she has in a while.

“Okay, baby,” he finally says. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Lance sees Sara suck in a deep, shuddering breath before she steps back and speaks to the room.

“It’s Nyssa. She’s moving. The day after tomorrow, and she didn’t tell me.”

“Oh, Sara…” Laurel sighs sympathetically.

“I mean, I knew it wouldn’t be forever. We’re in high school. But…I thought we’d at least have our senior year, you know? And she’s moving to _Tibet_. When am I ever going to see her again…?”

Lance scrubs a hand roughly over his scruff as he thinks of something comforting to offer his middle child.

He’s got nothing.

“Oh… Well, I uh… I’m not sure how to fix that one, sweetie. Maybe, uh…do you need…ice cream or something?” he asks awkwardly.

Sara stares at him in confusion, Laurel rolls her eyes, and Felicity bites her lip to keep from cracking a smile.

 _God, I have three girls_ , Lance thinks, hopeless and frustrated. _I should be better at this. Maybe if their mom was here…_

He’s saved from his feelings of helplessness when Laurel crosses the room and pulls Sara against her side.

“Come on, sweets,” Laurel whispers soothingly. “Let’s talk upstairs.”

Lance sighs deeply and scratches a hard line from his forehead to his temple as he considers how best to help Sara through her last year of high school.

*****

Felicity isn’t quite sure where she fits into this equation.

She shifts uncomfortably as Sara and Laurel pass her on their way up the stairs. Up until now, it’s primarily been her and Sara, with their father at work and Laurel at Oliver’s or Tommy’s. Felicity is used to being Sara’s first responder, the person Sara clings to when she has a bad game or horrible nightmares. Now that there are more emergency responders, Felicity suddenly feels like she doesn’t have the right to follow her sisters to Laurel’s room. Laurel is Sara’s sister first and foremost, so Felicity stays downstairs with Tommy and her father.

“Well, uh, I think that’s my cue,” Tommy states uneasily, tipping his head toward Lance in awkward acknowledgement.

“I’ll walk you to the car,” Felicity volunteers quickly.

She follows Tommy through the kitchen and the living room, crossing the threshold and feeling the cool summer breeze against her skin. She shivers lightly against the wind and folds her arms tightly across her chest.

“Sara’ll be okay,” Tommy states easily.

“How do you know?”

“She’s a fighter. Always has been. This won’t keep her down for long. Especially with you and Laurel there to help her. You Lance sisters are a force to be reckoned with,” he chuckles lightly.

“Yeah,” Felicity grins.

Tommy’s always been able to make her feel better in the midst of difficult situations. He’s a comforting presence and he’s there for her family because he loves her sister.

He’s about to slide into the driver’s seat when Felicity swallows hard and decides to say what she’s been dying to tell him since the night of her birthday party.

“Hey…Tommy?” she starts shyly, waiting for him to make a hum of acknowledgement before continuing. “I just… I wanted to say thank you. For being so nice to me and taking care of my sister. She… Laurel’s been a lot better lately, and I’m sure that’s because of you, so…thanks.”

Tommy looks sincerely shocked, his mouth opening and closing twice before a small smile graces his face.

“It’s not hard to be nice to you, kid. When you’re not being sarcastic or annoyed with the world, that is,’ he grins. “And Laurel…” Tommy’s eyes turn soft, his mouth curling into that smile he only reserves for her sister. “Well, it’s really not hard to love Laurel. You know.”

Felicity smiles lightly. “Yeah, when she’s not jumping down your throat she’s pretty amazing.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “And you’re not so bad yourself. And don’t sell yourself short. She’s doing better lately because of you too. She loves you, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” Felicity rolls her eyes affectionately.

She watches Tommy get in the car and waves as he drives away, deciding to go and check on her sisters upstairs.

*****

Felicity climbs the wooden staircase slowly, hand trailing lightly over the bannister as she forms a plan of action. She doesn’t want to interrupt Laurel and Sara if they’re having a moment, but she doesn’t want to be excluded, either. She loves Sara, and she really does want to help in any way she can.

Felicity approaches Laurel’s door quietly, and when she hears muffled whispers from the other side, she can’t help but peek through the slit in the cracked open bedroom door.

Laurel sits comfortably against her headboard, legs sprawled across the mattress as she murmurs soothing words to an obviously exhausted seventeen-year-old. Sara is laying down across Laurel’s brown comforter, her head in Laurel’s lap while Laurel brushes the hair away from her face. Sara huffs angrily, venting her frustrations, complete with hand gestures that can even rival Felicity’s during an impressive ramble.

Felicity feels like she’s intruding on a very private moment; like she has no right to be there. For the first time since she had shown up on the Lances’ doorstep all those months ago, Felicity feels like she doesn’t belong.

When she turns to leave, granting her sisters this time together, Sara catches a flash of blonde hair and calls to her.

“Hey, Flick, get in here. Join the pity party. Anything life-altering happen to _you_ the past couple days?”

She quickly thinks over the past few days, thinks about how worried she’s been about starting school again, thinks about the panic attacks that still find her unexpectedly, thinks about her conversation with Oliver Queen and the realization that he may not be so bad. She decides not to share her thoughts.

“Not particularly. But we do start school…ugh, technically tomorrow, and _that’s_ a hell I haven’t even begun to consider,” she lies easily.

Sara chuckles lightly, but it’s still soft and a little sad.

“Well, you’re a genius, Flick. It’s not like you’ll get kicked out.”

Felicity smiles and nods, making her way over to the bed and sitting on the edge near Sara’s stomach. Sara reaches out a hand, tangling their fingers together and closes her eyes when Laurel combs back through her hair.

“I love you guys,” Sara sighs.

“Me too,” Felicity responds at the same time Laurel replies, “We love you too, Sara.”

“And I know this is hard-” Laurel starts.

Sara huffs angrily. “No, you don’t. You’ve never had a boyfriend move away because his father is going on a dig in Tibet. You don’t know what it’s like-”

“But I _do_ know what it’s like to have my high school sweetheart break up with me. And lie to me. And what it’s like to have my ex-boyfriend date my little sister,” Laurel answers. Her voice is devoid of any venom. She genuinely sounds like she wants Sara to know she understands.

Sara’s face falls as it reddens. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles quietly.

“It’s all in the past, Sara. I just want you to be happy. And I know you were happy with Nyssa. Maybe tomorrow – well, today – you should spend the day with her and talk about everything before she leaves. You can borrow my car.”

“Thanks, pretty bird,” Sara smiles.

 _Pretty bird?_ Felicity’s never heard the pet name before, and she suddenly realizes that she’s never really spent time with Sara _and_ Laurel, together. Sara’s usually at soccer practice (being the varsity captain takes up a ridiculous amount of her time) and Laurel, up until about a week and a half ago – _God, was it really less than two weeks ago?_ – had been gone for twelve hours at a time.

 _It suits her_ , Felicity thinks bizarrely.

“You’re welcome, sweets. Just think in terms of the big picture, you know? You still have your senior year to figure out-”

“Thanks, _mom_ ,” Sara says sarcastically, rolling her eyes and smirking. But when her gaze meets Felicity’s, Felicity knows that she and Sara are thinking the same thing. Laurel may be their sister, but she’s the closest thing to a mother they have, and she’s been a damn good substitute over the past week and a half.

Looking at Sara, Felicity can plainly see the admiration for their older sister reflected back. It’s a new experience for Felicity, admiring someone she knows personally. But new, in the Lance household, has generally meant better.

Felicity can’t help but think of how much better – how much easier, comfortable, _safe_ – her life could have been if Laurel and Sara had been around when she was growing up.

She thinks about how much simpler her life would have been with Laurel taking care of her. She would have helped pay the bills, would have made sure that Felicity hadn’t gone hungry the nights her mother hadn’t come home, would have made sure that Felicity went to school, felt loved, wasn’t alone.

She thinks of how much more fun-filled and less lonely her childhood would have been with Sara constantly at her side, tossing a volleyball against the wall over and over and asking her how her day was.

Her life would have been significantly different if she had just been born a Lance in the first place.

She imagines being a toddler, jogging to keep up with Lance on their way to a five-year-old Sara’s dance recital. Dark brown ringlets flying behind her while she quickly moved to her seat between Lance and Laurel, trying her hardest to catch a glimpse of her sister behind a velvet curtain. She imagines a little Sara waving to their family between ballet turns. She can picture a seven-year-old Laurel smiling and pointing at her younger sister, asking Felicity and their father if they saw that. Felicity clapping her hands excitedly and being allowed to bring the bouquet of flowers to her sister, the giant flowers tickling her nose and obscuring her vision. She longs for it so badly it hurts.

But that wasn’t her reality. Her reality included waiting at bars for her mother to call a taxi, watching her father leave, skipping school and running to Cooper in a fool-hearted attempt to feel _something_ in her life. Her reality included dyeing her hair black, letting Cooper’s older sister pierce her ears and her nose, hacking into government databases and coding to have an excuse to avoid other people.

She’s shaken out of her reverie when she hears Laurel mumble something under her breath and sees her move to press a kiss to Sara’s temple.

It doesn’t matter what her childhood was like, Felicity decides resolutely. She has a father who works hard and devotes his free time to his girls, an older sister she adores, an even older sister who cares for her without a second thought. Maybe she doesn’t have a mother, but she doesn’t need one.

She finally has everything she’s ever wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course I had to add a conversation discussing how amazing Laurel is, as well as a ton of Laurel scenes, after that last episode. No shame here.
> 
> And don’t worry, Nyssara are going to be doing the long distance thing because I ship it so hard. They’re just apart so much in the show that I don’t quite know how to write them well together, and I want to do them justice.
> 
> I know it's a little out of character for Sara to be overly emotional, but it's an AU where all the main characters are teenagers and haven't dealt with all they have in the show. This AU is more how I imagined the characters before their struggles, where they're happy and the Arrow writers don't kill them off.
> 
> Next up, Felicity and Sara start school again.
> 
> As always, let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Felicity start school, Nyssa calls, and Felicity shares her insecurities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I’m sorry there’s such a big gap between updates, but life is a little hectic lately. Good news, I’m back to my treatment plan! So I’m actually doing a lot better in school and life in general, which means I’m on track to graduate this semester – a year early!!! Bad news, my last semester is kind of awful. Article and dissertation reviews are now my life. And yes, they are as fun as they sound.
> 
> And I really just wanted to say thank you for the overwhelming support I’ve gotten for this fic! You guys are always so kind and words can’t describe how much I appreciate it!
> 
> This chapter ended up being really long and kind of skips around a bit, so…my bad. Anyway, hope you like it!

The night before school starts finds Felicity tossing and turning on her makeshift bed, a stray spring digging itself into her back and making restful sleep impossible. For her, at least. Sara is completely oblivious to her pain, snoring and occasionally mumbling something that sounds an awful lot like “get the bunnies, Nyssa”. It’s painfully adorable, her sister lost to reality, but it only adds to the impossibility of reaching a few normal REM cycles.

She sighs deeply, running her hand through her hair and startling slightly when her fingers pull forward strands of blonde. Less than two weeks have done very little to get her accustomed to the new color, despite how _right_ it feels to have golden curls over the straight black and purple of her Goth days.

_Blonde. Like my mother. So much for ‘finding myself away from Vegas’…_ she thinks a little miserably. But she remembers that Laurel and Sara are both natural blondes, and the reminder makes her feel a little closer the girls she refers to exclusively as her sisters. Her sisters who, much to her chagrin, are sleeping peacefully while she’s distracted by her inner monologue.

She entertains the idea of crawling in with Sara again, but quickly pushes it away. Tomorrow is Sara’s first day of school, too. She should probably get the rest Felicity can’t seem to find.

_So stay here or go down to the living room and watch a movie…_ But Sara lets out an impressive snore as she rolls onto her side, and Felicity’s mind is made up for her.

She pads down the creaky steps carefully, her toes brushing against the cold linoleum painted to look like wood, and shivers lightly. It’s way too early for her to be this awake.

_Now I’m going to be a zombie for my first day of classes, and won’t that be a great first impression? Zombie-Felicity with only one cup of coffee, the person everyone is dying to meet. Oh, zombie. Dying. Clever._ She groans.

“Flick?”

Felicity nearly misses the next step when she hears her nickname ring out across the silence. Her heel collides hard with the side of the bannister, her death grip on the wood the only thing keeping her from toppling over completely.

“….Dad?” she calls out breathlessly, heart thrumming against her breastbone as she tries to control her breathing once more. “Why are you up?”

Lance grits his teeth when he sees his baby girl nearly fall down the steps and calls out a quick apology. “Sorry, didn’t think about startling you. I was just up. Guess something told me you were gonna be awake and needing company.” He smiles as Felicity descends the last few steps. “What are you doing up, sweetheart? Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I… Just nervous about school I guess.”

“Aah, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Good kid like you? No worries here. Now, when Laurel was in school with Queen and Merlyn, that was another story… But you, Flick? Good as gold. And smart. Plus, you’ve never had problems making friends when you want to. You’ll be fine.”

But Felicity is completely unconvinced. She’s a genius, sure. In computer coding and math and probably sciences like chemistry and biology, but things like psychology or gym? Oh god, gym. She forgot all about gym.

“What’s really got you worried?” Lance asks, reaching up to pull his adopted daughter next to him on the couch.

She sits willingly, but her body language is completely closed off. Her gaze is focused entirely on the hands twisting in her lap, studiously avoiding his eyes. She takes a deep breath, opening her mouth to say something and closing it at the last second. Finally, she works up the courage to speak.

“I wrote the code Cooper used to break into the bank server,” she blurts out with no preamble, and…oh. It actually feels incredible to finally get that off her chest. She has no idea why she decided to tell her father that – it wasn’t something that really related to her fears for school – but now that some of the words are out, she can’t hold the rest back. “I didn’t know what he wanted it for, but I knew what it _could_ be used for and made it anyway. I just wanted him to be proud of me. For _someone_ to be proud of me.” She manages to cut herself off before her words can turn to tears.

“Felicity,” Lance starts. _Has he called her Felicity since the first week she lived here?_ “Baby, I am incredibly proud of you. You’re a genius, obviously, and you’re kind and you love your sisters. That’s more reason for pride than most kids have in a lifetime. You know that?”

Her eyes slide shut and stay closed for a few seconds longer than could be considered a blink. When her eyes flick open, she meets his gaze, but her shoulders slump slightly and her chin tips lightly toward her chest.

“But-”

“No, sweetheart. No more thinking like you’re not important. Now, you have school tomorrow. What’s say we make some tea and watch an episode of some teenage something-or-other and then head to bed.”

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before smiling and nodding resolutely.

*****

After the tea is made and some trashy teenage RomCom had been decidedly rejected by his youngest daughter, Lance switches the tv to a technology documentary that he can’t possibly follow, but Felicity is completely absorbed in. Every few minutes, she makes a random comment about the specs on whatever gadget they’re showcasing, and Lance feels a small stab of pride.

His daughter is incredible. He knows he doesn’t really have much to do with it; he didn’t raise her and the math she’s casually spouting off as she watches the documentary definitely doesn’t come from him. Hell, he can barely string together the purpose of the machine, much less how it works. But she’s here, sitting on the couch and watching tv with him, calling him ‘Dad’ and telling him about her worries. He’s listening to her go on about her future plans for the tech featured in between yawns when she curls up against his side, resting her head on his shoulder, and he knows he’s going to protect and care for this girl as surely as he will Sara or Laurel. The girl with abandonment issues, who had known so much neglect and hurt, who had panic attacks and a hard time trusting people, felt completely safe with him, and he was never going to disappoint her.

He’d move heaven and earth for his daughters.

*****

That morning, Felicity wakes to Sara flitting around the room excitedly, and she has to bite back a groan. Her sister is _way_ too perky for six o’clock in the morning.

“Fli _iiiiii_ ck,” she hears Sara singsong. “Wake _up_! School time!”

“ _Sara_.”

“Get up, grumpy,” Sara laughs, digging a finger into Felicity’s side.

“This isn’t funny,” Felicity moans, twisting herself as far from Sara as she can in her exhausted state.

“It’s kind of funny.”

“Oh _really_? Remember any of your dreams last night, Sara?” Felicity asks grouchily, remembering Sara’s mumbling about Nyssa and bunnies. If Sara is going to take such pleasure in her pain, Felicity is certainly going to share the wealth.

Felicity almost swears she can see a faint blush work its way up Sara’s neck, but she admits it could be wishful thinking.

“Uh, nope. Dream-free night,” Sara responds maybe a little too quickly, backing away from her. “Let’s just…get to school! Laurel volunteered to drive us, so we need to get ready.”

*****

When Felicity is guided into the administration office of Starling City High School, she finds herself face-to-face with a short, heavier black woman whose hair is pulled into a professional-looking bun. Her face is neither kind nor severe, a mask of pure professionalism that leaves Felicity feeling anxious and unable to read her. This must be the principal, clearly expecting her arrival.

“Felicity, right?” she asks. She gets a nod in response and smiles, moving to guide Felicity into her office.

The office is small, the walls painted in bland tans and greys, a desk resting in the middle of the room with chairs on either side. The overall effect is underwhelming, but that doesn’t staunch any of the anxiety building in Felicity’s chest.

The principal gestures to an uncomfortable-looking chair with rough, grey upholstery that scratches against Felicity’s skin when she sits down. Felicity watches nervously, heart threatening to beat out of her chest, as the principal crosses the room and seats herself in an armchair. She takes note of the gold nameplate across the front of the desk. “Mrs. Cores, Principal.”

“It says here you’re supposed to be a junior,” the principal says coolly, leaning forward slightly before reclining comfortably in her expensive black leather chair. It creaks lightly as it moves, and it’s enough to distract Felicity from the statement. Her gaze stays firmly fixed on the slightly worn arm of the chair, eyes taking in the graying leather around the edges as she tries to figure out how often Mrs. Cores would have to sit in that position to have the new leather wear so fast. Then the very intimidating principal clears her throat and Felicity is thrown back into the moment.

“Oh, right. Um, yeah. Yes. Ma’am,” she stutters out uselessly, and instantly regrets it.

_Ma’am? Is she from the south now?_

The principal, for her part, merely looks amused, eyes shining and lips curling into a small smile that disappears as soon as she sees Felicity’s rather small stack of student records.

“But your attendance record leaves a lot to be desired.”

Felicity can feel the heat streak across her face as a blush creeps onto her cheeks.

“Well…yeah…I-I guess I don’t really have a good excuse for that.”

“I’m not here to listen to excuses, anyway. It’s not part of my job description, though I can’t say it doesn’t happen often. No,” Mrs. Cores says, leaning forward and folding her hands together over the desk. “No, my job is to help the students in this school succeed. Do you think you could succeed at this school, Felicity?”

Felicity meets the principal’s gaze, taking in her serious expression and raised eyebrows. Her hands clench unconsciously around the arms of the uncomfortable chair she’s perched in, but she nods, albeit a little unsurely.

Mrs. Cores’s lips tick up, her expression lukewarm and as professional as ever.

“I think so, too. Now. What’s expected of you is to take an exam that will test both your previous knowledge and your aptitude for learning. I must warn you, the exam will take nearly the entire school day and will be an arduous process. When you are finished, you will consult with me, your counselor, and a faculty advisor to determine a class schedule for you. Now, you should know, this class schedule may place you with students who are younger than you are. You’ve missed a lot of school, Felicity, and as a consequence, you may be held back for a year or two.”

Felicity swallows nervously. _A year or two?_ _Three or four more years of high school?_ Where will she be then? Will the Lances keep her that long? Will Laurel be moved out, living somewhere exotic and warm with Tommy? Will they have kids and forget all about her? Will Sara be off to college? On so many sports scholarships that her dad will never have to pay a dime out of pocket? Will she be traveling with Nyssa? Will her dad still keep Felicity around when his _real_ daughters have moved on?

_Okay, calm down, Smoak._ Wait…Lance? Did they want her to be a Lance? _Frack._ This is so not helping her regain her composure. She’s probably gaping at the principal like a fish while she quickly spirals into an endless cycle of questioning and self-doubt. Great.

“Oh…I…okay. Well, it all depends on the test results, right? I could test into the right year?”

“It’s a possibility, but I won’t lie to you, the odds are slim with a record like yours.” Felicity deflates slightly. “But you seem like a smart girl,” the principal continues. “If you focus and do your best on this exam, I have little doubt that you will be able to succeed and graduate, regardless of the timeline. Now. Let’s get you set up with a counselor who will administer the exam…”

*****

Apparently, Felicity sets the records for both fastest exam time and exam score in the state.

The faculty advisor explains this to her calmly, but Felicity can see the creases of surprise in his face as he reads her scores in each section of the test. She has the strangest urge to raise her fist in the air in triumph, but wisely pushes it aside when she notices Mrs. Cores’s appraising gaze turned on her. Felicity could be mistaken, but she’s pretty sure she can see pride slip through her carefully professional mask.

“So, you’ve actually tested beyond senior year,” the faculty advisor continues, stammering slightly. He’s been nervous since Mrs. Cores had entered the room, but Felicity can’t honestly blame him. “So…uh…that…well, you’ll be starting your senior year here, we do have to make sure you take specific classes to graduate, but that’s really all we know right now. We should have a class schedule for you soon, definitely by the end of the week-”

“The end of the week?” Felicity asks curiously. “I guess I just assumed I’d be starting tomorrow.”

“Well, normally you would be, but we’re pretty confident that there are a few classes you could simply test out of rather than taking them. We’ll have to review your scores some more to see what those are, and then we’ll see which ones we’re left with.”

“You got genius-level test scores, Felicity,” the school counselor assigned to her speaks for the first time. She’s a thin, shy woman with a kind face who reminds her of a much older Laurel. Felicity had, maybe unsurprisingly, liked her right away. “Do you realize how incredible that is?”

Felicity crosses her arms awkwardly and nods, still unused to being complimented by adults that aren’t her father or her oldest sister.

It’s Mrs. Cores who blessedly saves her from her discomfort. “Yes, well, it’s very impressive, Felicity. And now that we have your test scores, you are free to return home. We had anticipated that it would take you nearly the entire day, but as it is only 10:30, going home with someone on campus is not an option. Do you have the means to get home now?”

“I, oh, um, yeah. My sister can pick me up if I can borrow a phone.”

*****

Two days pass relatively uneventfully.

Apparently Felicity’s incredibly high test scores had left the high school staff reeling, and had translated to taking a ridiculously long time to determine her class schedule. They had explained that she would be starting her senior year, but had also mentioned supplemental online classes and suggested that she take college prep courses in addition to all the schoolwork they had yet to assign. It was incredibly daunting, but also filled Felicity with no small sense of pride.

It had also impressed Lance and Laurel and Sara, if their reactions were anything to go by. Laurel had taken her out to celebratory lunch, Sara had promised to dedicate her next win to her – whatever that meant – and Lance had hugged her and told her that he knew she could do it. It was maybe the first time she’d actually felt like celebrating good news, and she actually had people to celebrate with. It was kind of great.

*****

Three days into the new schoolyear, Nyssa’s one long distance call for the day reaches Felicity’s cell phone during one of the most eventful soccer games Felicity has ever witnessed. Granted, this is the only soccer game she’s willfully attended and paid attention to, but she decides that it still has to fall under the “eventful” umbrella term. It’s eventful for Starling City High School, at least. For the other team, not so much. The score is already 2-0 when Nyssa calls.

“Nyssa?” Felicity answers on the second ring.

“Hello,” her multi-accented voice rings out across the line. “I hope I am not inconveniencing you, I was simply hoping to hear the game while Sara plays.”

“Oh. Um, yeah,” Felicity starts, completely surprised. “I can…I can narrate. I think. I don’t really watch soccer though, so I may not be a huge help, but I can tell you some things. I think… I mean, Sara talks about it a lot and she has the posters and sports on in the background when she makes food in the kitchen and stuff, but to be honest I’ve never really-”

“Felicity. I’m only allowed twenty minutes.”

“Right. Sorry. They’re uh…they’re running. And kicking the ball.”

She hears Nyssa release a throaty laugh. “I suspected as much. Toward whose goal?”

“I…I don’t know,” Felicity responds sheepishly. She _really_ should be better at this with Sara ‘I play every sport that ever existed because I’m incredibly fit and talented’ Lance as her sister. “Oh! Sara has the ball now! She’s running and…well, running more. Oh she made a goal!”

The cheering from the stands is nearly deafening, and Felicity puts a finger to her ear in a failed effort to muffle some of the excited shouts.

“Well done, Ta-er Al-Sahfer,” Nyssa says warmly.

Felicity rolls the unfamiliar words around in her head, only considering repeating them for a second before realizing that any attempt will butcher the correct pronunciation.

“What does that mean?”

“Canary.”

Felicity watches Sara, golden hair gleaming in the sunlight, laughing and flitting between the other players, and knows it fits without the shadow of a doubt.

“It’s beautiful,” Felicity decides.

“So is your sister,” Nyssa replies with no hesitation.

Felicity chuckles. “I’ll make sure to tell her you said that.”

“Please do.”

There’s a long pause over the airwaves, and for a moment Felicity thinks she’s lost her. Then, quietly, she hears, “How is Sara? Honestly?”

“She misses you, Nyssa. A lot… But she’s a fighter,” Felicity smiles, recalling Tommy’s words. “And she’s the scariest varsity captain I’ve ever seen. Like, incredible Hulk proportions. At least when it comes to Isabel. Everyone else seems to know better.”

Nyssa barks a laugh over the line. “Once you have met the Rochev girl, you too will understand.”

Felicity glances at Isabel, whose dark ponytail whips around her as she runs from goal to goal, muttering angrily under her breath.

“I don’t doubt it.” She pauses before continuing. “How are you, Nyssa? Is Tibet okay?”

“It is fine,” Nyssa responds heavily. “Though, admittedly, less entertaining than I had come to expect. Overseeing a dig is a spectator sport, and I’ve come to dislike those greatly.”

Felicity releases a breath sharply, a ghost of a laugh, before she sobers.

“And Sara’s not there.”

“And Sara is not here.”

Felicity sighs sadly, tapping the fingers of her right hand against her knee while the other shifts the cell phone against her ear.

“You know I miss you too, right?”

Felicity surprises herself with that one. She’s never made a habit of sharing her feelings, especially when it wasn’t expected of her, but her time with the Lances, she’s come to realize, has irrevocably changed her. She’s finally starting to become the person she’s always wanted to be. The person she believed she could be if she ever found herself in the right circumstances.

She hears Nyssa suck in a breath of surprise. They hadn’t been extremely close when Nyssa had lived near them, but Felicity had come to respect and adore Nyssa in their time together. Even when Felicity was new in the Lance household and interrupted hers and Sara’s time alone together constantly, Nyssa didn’t write her off as an annoyance. She easily accepted Felicity because Sara had.

_Wow_ , Felicity thought. _How did my sisters end up with such perfect high school sweethearts?_

She thinks back to Cooper and has to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes at her own stupidity.

“I miss you too, Felicity.”

Felicity smiles, albeit a little sadly, and returns to narrating the game. Soon, Felicity hears Nyssa’s father murmur something in Arabic and Nyssa apologetically explains that she has to go.

“Tell my beloved-”

“I’ll make sure she knows you love her,” Felicity finishes quickly.

“Thank you.”

*****

When the game finishes, Starling City High School winning three to zero, Sara comes bounding up the bleachers toward Felicity.

“Did Nyssa hear that we were winning?” Sara asks quickly.

“Yep. She heard about pretty much everything up until the last five minutes. And she told me to tell you that you’re beautiful and that she loves you.”

Sara smiles sadly, but there’s still a spark in her eyes that’s just so _Sara_ that Felicity doesn’t worry about how well her sister is coping with the separation.

Sometimes Felicity really envies Sara. It’s not that she’s athletic, or popular, or incredibly kind despite the familial problems that plagued her last year – though those things don’t make Felicity envy her any less. Sara’s just always had a fire in her heart, a spark in her eyes that help her survive anything.

“I probably should have told you that she was going to call,” Sara confesses shyly, turning her eyes downward before her gaze flits back to Felicity’s. “I guess I just forgot, with school starting and everything. Been kind of a crazy day,” she laughs breathily.

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m just happy you guys were winning when she called.”

“Me too. I mean, Nyssa was one of our better players, but I think we can all admit that _I’m_ the best,” Sara says, her face breaking into a wide grin as she bows dramatically.

“Hey, hotshot!” one of the other players yells from across the field – McKenna something, Felicity thinks she heard Sara call her earlier – and Sara whips her head toward the sound. “We’re going out for ice cream, you in?”

“Yep! And my baby sister’s coming too,” Sara calls sharply, and before Felicity knows it’s happening, she’s being pulled to her feet and yanked toward the crowd of sweaty soccer players.

*****

When Sara and Felicity wander back into the house, later than either of them had realized, Lance was nowhere to be found.

“Dad’s at the precinct,” Laurel calls over her shoulder from her seat on the couch. Both Sara and Felicity jump a little at the sound of their sister’s voice. “The chief still refuses to give him a case until he’s medically cleared, but that’s not going to stop him from trying.”

Well, Felicity never has to wonder where her sisters get their fierce determination.

“Let’s talk upstairs. You can tell me how the game was.”

*****

“So…how was it?” Laurel asks as Felicity sits on the edge of Laurel’s queen-sized bed.

“It was fine,” Sara sighs, laying down next to her and stretching herself comfortably across the entire mattress. “We won, obviously. I mean, with _me_ as varsity captain-” Sara never gets to finish what was clearly going to be an impressive brag, because Laurel launches a pillow across the room and towards Sara’s cheek, where it smacks the giant grin off her face.

Sara laughs and chucks the pillow back toward her sister.

“Well I’m sorry I missed it,” Laurel offers, grinning when the careless toss of the pillow misses her by several inches.

“I _guess_ I forgive you,” Sara sighs in mock indignation, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Ugh, I have school again tomorrow. More classes, more soccer practice…”

“Yes, your life is hard, but I’m sure you’ll survive.”

Felicity grins at Laurel, eyes ducking down shyly and not quite meeting Laurel’s when they’re turned on her.

Laurel crosses the room to join them on the bed, sitting between Felicity and Sara, wrapping her arms around their shoulders and pulling them in close.

“I love you.”

Sara says “I love you too” the same time Felicity mumbles “me too”.

“Why do you never say ‘I love you’, Flick?” Sara asks her, her wide blue eyes calculating and focused. Her lips curl down around the edges, and the intensity of her gaze suddenly feels like too much for Felicity to handle.

“What do you mean?” Felicity asks hesitantly.

“Well, when someone says they love you, you say ‘same here’ or ‘me too’. You never actually say the words.”

She wants to avoid the question, wants to curl into a ball underneath the bed and block out the uncomfortable conversation that’s sure to follow. She can see Laurel’s brows scrunching together, lowering her arms from their shoulders as she revisits their conversations and realizes that Sara is right. That girl can be _way_ too observant for her own good.

She takes a deep breath, pointer finger gliding across the brown comforter as she considers her next words carefully. She doesn’t want her sisters to pity her, which is usually the response that follows all of her admissions. The neglect she knew too well from her childhood didn’t feel like it was plaguing her life anymore. She felt happy and well-adjusted for maybe the first time in her life. Pity is the last thing she wants.

“No one I’ve said ‘I love you’ to has stuck around.” She tries to remove all emotion from her voice, turning her attention to the nonsensical patterns she’s still tracing into the blanket, but her voice cracks on the last word.

Huh. Apparently she’s not quite over that one.

She can see Sara and Laurel exchanging worried glances, silently communicating. Felicity risks a glance in their direction. She sees Sara’s eyes narrow slightly, takes in the twitch at the corner of Laurel’s lips, and knows that something is being decided.

Laurel presses a soft kiss to the top of her head and rises from the bed, stepping back a few paces before nodding at Sara, whose face splits into one of the biggest grins Felicity has ever seen.

That does not bode well for her.

Before Felicity can even ask what they’re planning, Sara launches herself across the short distance and hug-tackles Felicity to the mattress, banding her arms around her younger sister and squeezing a little too tightly. Laurel simply laughs as she watches Felicity try to recapture the breath Sara had knocked from her lungs.

_What the hell just happened?_ Felicity thinks, bewildered, laying on her back with Sara’s weight crushing her against the mattress in a hug that leaves her incapacitated. Sara should definitely take up wrestling.

“Well, Lances say ‘I love you’, and people who don’t, get tackled,” Sara announces like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well technically I’m not a-” Felicity starts, but Laurel cuts her off.

“The next words out of your mouth had better not be that you’re technically not a Lance, Lis.”

“Sorry, Flick. You’re kind of stuck here forever,” Sara smiles before climbing off of her baby sister and the mattress.

_Huh_ , Felicity thinks. _Stuck here forever… I like the sound of that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So remember in the last chapter, where Felicity was thinking about how life could have been if she lived with the Lances as a toddler? Where she went to little Sara’s ballet recital? Well, I wrote it as a oneshot! So if you’re interested, look it up! It’s part of the ‘Family is Everything’ series.
> 
> As always, let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity finally decides to come out of her shell, someone runs into a millionaire, and Sara is smug. Or, random fluffy scenes I was dying to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So, first thing, Felicity is a lot different in this chapter than I’ve been writing her, because I want to move her more toward canon personality-wise. I’ve been incredibly nervous to post this chapter, because it’s different from how I usually write, but I decided to just go for it. If you don’t like it, you really don’t have to tell me.
> 
> Second thing, I’ve been getting a lot of requests to do more childhood oneshots of Felicity and the Lance sisters, but to be honest, I’m kind of stalled/out of ideas on that front. If there’s anything you want me to write specifically, you can always prompt me on tumblr, username: taxingtaurus.
> 
> Once again, I can’t believe how supportive you guys are! Thank you so much for sticking with this fic, y’all are amazing.

That night, Felicity can’t sleep.

And for once, it’s not because of insomnia or nightmares.

It’s because she’s finally made an important decision.

She replays the words _stuck here forever_ over and over in her mind, smiling occasionally when she remembers how easily Sara had said them. Like it was a fact, like it was a promise. Like they loved her and wanted her, no matter what.

And then Felicity works herself into a near-panic attack, because she realizes that her family doesn’t know who she _really_ is.

They know the shy, quiet Felicity; prone to panic attacks and occasional babbling but mostly reserved and nervous. Granted, that’s who she’d been the past few months. She’d been terrified to rely on others, scared of becoming attached to temporary people, fighting for her life in the Glades and dealing with the aftermath, stressed about starting a new school and a new life in Starling City.

But now…

Now Lance stays up to talk to her when she’s too anxious to sleep, never once telling her anything that isn’t loving and kind. Now Laurel protects her and takes care of her the way her own mother never had. Now Sara holds her hand when she has nightmares and invites her out to assure she’s never lonely.

Now, she has no reason to worry that the Lances will abandon her.

Now, they need to know the _real_ Felicity. Sarcasm and rambling and all.

She’s beyond terrified, despite her resolve to break out of the shell she’s casted around her heart all these months. How could she not be? Everyone who knew who she truly was – her mother, her father, Cooper – had abandoned her.

She pauses, mind quickly jumping to the conclusion that the Lances hadn’t abandoned her _because_ she wasn’t acting entirely like herself, but she wills it away with a little difficulty. Her gut tells her that the Lances will love her no matter what she throws at them.

_There’s no time like the present to test it, right?_

_Right._

With fierce determination, Felicity resolves to truly be herself in front of her family. Tomorrow.

*****

When Felicity stumbles down the steps in a tank top and her Russian nesting doll pajamas the next afternoon – _not_ morning, much to Felicity’s chagrin – Laurel is clearly surprised. She raises an eyebrow at her youngest sister, undoubtedly judging her for waking up at half past noon, before following Felicity into the kitchen to make more coffee.

“Still no schedule, huh?” Laurel asks, lips curling into a sympathetic smile as she fills the coffeemaker.

Felicity sighs. “Dad left a note saying that the school called this morning, but I don’t start until Monday. You know, I never thought I would actually _miss_ going to school.”

Laurel doesn’t seem to mind that Felicity offers that small piece of information, and Felicity realizes that she doesn’t actually feel weird sharing it.

Felicity bites her lip, suddenly realizing that – in what feels like no time at all – she’s gotten just as comfortable talking to Laurel as she has Sara. No stuttering, no awkward pauses, no feelings of discomfort that make her want to run for the door. It’s… _freeing_.

“Getting bored, are we?” Laurel asks, snapping Felicity out of her reverie.

“You have no idea,” Felicity answers, pushing herself up to sit on the countertop. “I mean, normally I would just try to hack through government firewalls, but-”

“But you live with a cop,” Laurel finishes easily.

“But I live with a cop. Which makes it significantly riskier to do big things, and little things are just…boring.”

Laurel hums softly as she finishes with the coffeemaker, sighing deeply as the old model rattles and groans at being left unattended.

“Dad _needs_ to get a new one of these,” Felicity groans, strengthening her resolve to be authentic before turning a small smile on her oldest sister. “Or we could just get Tommy to buy us one.”

“I don’t think I’m going to use my boyfriend to get a new coffeemaker, Lis.”

“Then I think you’re missing the point of having a rich boyfriend.”

Laurel’s eyes widen, the surprise written clearly on her face. For a moment, Felicity worries that maybe her humor is too stark a contrast against her old ways. But Laurel’s face quickly slips into that _you’re not as funny as you think you are_ look she usually reserves for Sara, and Felicity breathes a little easier.

“You know I don’t love Tommy because he’s rich.”

“Yeah, I know, you love him because he’s a good guy who’s hopelessly in love with you.”

“He’s not… _hopeless_ …” Laurel trails off, but she catches Felicity raising her eyebrows sarcastically and knows there’s really no point in arguing.

“Well, I am,” Felicity interjects. “Hopeless, I mean. Not hopelessly in love with you – or anyone else, for that matter – just…hopeless, in general. Because I have nothing to do today.”

Laurel’s face splits into a beautiful, easy smile as her sister’s face reddens. She really loves it when Felicity babbles in front of her. It…strengthens her, somehow, to know that Felicity trusts her enough to stop holding back her personal thoughts. And it’s kind of adorable.

“Well my to-do list is a couple miles long today…want to tag along?” Laurel offers. “It won’t be as exciting as illegally hacking into the government, but it’ll be significantly less risky.”

Felicity smiles. “But the risk is what makes it fun.”

“Whatever you say, sis.”

*****

A trip to the bank, a jaunt to the post office, an adventure to the bookstore, and a stop at the precinct later, Felicity finds herself slumped against the passenger seat in the parking lot of a mini mart.

“Not giving up yet, are you?” Laurel asks, reaching out a hand to pat Felicity’s knee gently. “We just have to get groceries and pick up Sara, then we’ll head home.”

Felicity groans.

Only a few weeks ago, she would have felt guilty for complaining about something as trivial – as unimportant – as completing a long to-do list, in front of Laurel. Expressing any negative emotion would have left her feeling vulnerable, spoiled, judged by someone who might use any personal information to hurt her later. But everything feels… _different_ now. It’s incredibly difficult to explain, even to herself, but now that she knows that Laurel isn’t actively trying to toss her away, she feels… _good_. Wanted; even when she complains or babbles or admits to having fun breaking down government firewalls.

Not that Laurel is the only person to ever make Felicity feel wanted. Far from it, in fact.

She had chosen to trust Lance at the precinct the day Cooper was arrested, and he had never let her down.

And Felicity had always known, from the first day she stepped into a blue room littered with sports posters, that she could trust Sara implicitly. Sara had taken her in without question, keeping her calm on bad nights, taking her out on good ones, introducing her to friends and helping her through her abandonment issues and never letting her worry about the future. Sara was the first person she ever truly trusted and knew wouldn’t let her down. She had helped Felicity feel more wanted and important than she ever had before. Around Sara, she could always be herself.

But knowing Laurel resented her for staying in their home…it had made her nervous, weary. Always trying to stay one step ahead to get out before she was forced out. But now that everyone wants her there…

She can just be…a teenager. A teenager who wants to go to school and spend time with her family and groan about grocery shopping with her sister.

“You know, when you said your list was a couple miles long, I thought you were exaggerating. It’s been _hours_ , Laurel.”

“Only two and a half.”

Felicity’s eye roll speaks volumes.

“Look, help me with this list,” Laurel starts, pulling out a grocery list that’s a full page front and back, “and I’ll buy you mint chocolate chip ice cream.”

Part of Felicity really wants to protest being bribed with ice cream like a four-year-old, but as far as bribes go, mint chocolate chip is pretty effective.

“Deal.”

*****

“Lis, would you mind grabbing the peanut butter? It’s just down that aisle,” Laurel asks, eyes not leaving the grocery list as she juts out an elbow to gesture to the sign reading: “5 – peanut butter, bread, condiments”.

Felicity nods quickly, but when she moves to do just that, she collides with something warm and hard and definitely _not_ her sister.

She steps back automatically, quickly moving to apologize, but the apology sticks in her throat when she sees her accidental assailant. Her eyes trail up a fitted t-shirt, trying and failing _so_ hard not to notice the muscles underneath, to the barely-there stubble on his neck and face, to wide blue eyes, and it’s…

Oliver Queen.

She literally just _ran into_ Oliver Queen. At the _mini mart._

_What the hell?_

Felicity tries to think of something clever to say as she blanches and rubs along her collar bone, but it’s no use. She’s still reeling from the harder-than-anticipated hit she just took. Probably gaping up at him like a fish out of water. Great.

Fortunately – or maybe _un_ fortunately, Felicity hasn’t quite decided – Laurel doesn’t seem to share her speechlessness.

“Ollie.”

“Laurel.”

_And Felicity,_ Felicity thinks nervously, _in the most uncomfortable third-wheel situation ever. Frack._

“And here I thought grocery shopping was beneath you,” Laurel smiles, arms folding defensively over her chest with the grocery list caught in the crease of her elbow.

Oliver tenses. His eyes narrow ever so slightly as the he plasters on the Playboy smile, and _oh this is so not good_ plays on an endless loop through Felicity’s mind.

“Oh, usually it is. But Raisa’s sick today,” is all he offers in return, and Laurel almost breaks. The ghost of a smile cracks her hard exterior for a moment, but one look at Felicity’s face, clearly skeptical and untrusting, slips the mask back into place.

“Glad she’s getting a break from you, then,” Laurel tries to quip back, but her words are more tired than biting.

She knows she’s going to forgive Oliver. There’s no doubt of that in her mind. Honestly, Laurel knows he hasn’t done anything _that_ bad. Certainly nothing to not warrant forgiveness. She’s just so tired of Oliver causing rifts in her family.

Okay, she knows that’s not entirely fair. It does take two to cheat, and she forgave Sara a long time ago. Laurel just doesn’t want what happened between her and Sara last summer happen to her and Felicity.

She knows she’ll forgive Ollie, but as it won’t be today, Laurel casts a weary glance at Felicity that clearly says ‘ _let’s_ go’ before moving down the aisle to find the next item on her list.

Felicity moves to follow her, but a hand slipping gently around her wrist catches her entirely off guard. She startles, her gaze moving from the hand that quickly falls away to Oliver’s unfairly gorgeous blue eyes.

“Felicity, I…” He pauses, wincing as if his next words are actually painful for him to say. “I’m…sorry. For your birthday.”

“Oh, I...” she starts, completely unable to mask the surprise in her voice. _Where is this coming from?_ “I…guess that talk with Laurel must have done more damage than I thought.”

“It wasn’t... _terrible_ ”, he says, but the almost imperceptible tightening of his shoulders makes her think otherwise. Laurel really can be terrifying when she wants to be. And Felicity kind of loves it. “But Laurel’s been one of my best friends since high school, and I’d really like for her not to hate me forever.”

Felicity’s heart falls just a little.

_Right. This is about Laurel, not me._

“Well…I’ll let her know you did a good job making it up to me.”

When his face cracks into a grin, she winces. This is what she gets for trying to be authentic.

“That sounds like a double entendre, doesn’t it? God, when will everything out of my mouth not be babbling or something that sounds vaguely sexual?” She sighs. “I meant with an apology, obviously. Because…well, what else would I mean? You and I aren’t anything…like _that_. Because I can’t stand you. Not that…I mean, um-”

Didn’t she _just_ take an exam that proved she was a genius?

“Felicity,” he blessedly stops her. “I know what you meant. It’s fine. Just…tell Laurel that she can stop hating me now?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

He smiles and starts to walk away, but turns back at the last moment and catches her eye.

“Felicity?”

“Hmm?”

“I…I really am sorry. And I hope to see you and your sisters again soon.”

And with that sentiment and a wink, Oliver Queen leaves a very conflicted Felicity Smoak behind.

*****

Groceries finally loaded into the car – creatively, to somehow leave room for Sara and her soccer gear – Laurel and Felicity quickly make their way to Starling City High School to pick up the middle Lance child.

The car ride passes in contented silence, neither girl anxious to fill the quiet peacefulness of a sunny summer drive. With the windows rolled down, the air is muggy, still a little too warm for 4:30pm, but Felicity doesn’t mind. The heat is one part of Vegas she actually _does_ miss.

Laurel and Felicity wait ten minutes, Laurel seriously considering calling Sara to tell her they’re outside, before they see a blonde ponytail bobbing across the soccer field and toward their car. Sara sprints, easily passing her teammates despite the giant bag of sports equipment pounding against her side with every step, taking her only thirty seconds to reach the car from the end of the field. She throws her gear into the car through the lowered back window before stepping to the passenger door, leaning through the open window to place a hard kiss to Felicity’s cheek.

“What’s got you so happy, Sara?” Laurel asks.

“Oh, nothing,” Sara tries to remain nonchalant, but it’s difficult with the giant grin still plastered to her face. “Just that Max Fuller asked me out today.”

As Sara maneuvers into the back seat, Felicity’s heart speeds up without warning. _What about Nyssa?_ she wonders nervously, but Sara continues, effectively silencing her worries.

“Remember Max, pretty bird? The jerk I had a crush on in the fifth grade but dumped me because I was – and I quote – ‘too good at sports’?” Laurel nods. “Well, today he asked me out. Do you have _any idea_ how good it felt to say, ‘Absolutely not, I’m dating someone else’? God, so good,” Sara sighs contentedly.

“That’s great, Sara,” Laurel smiles, eyes flickering to the rearview mirror to see her younger sister.

“I just wish Nyssa was here to see it,” Sara says quietly, and Felicity can’t stand to see her sister go from ‘on top of the world’ to sad in a single moment.

“Well, it’s probably a good thing Nyssa isn’t here,” Felicity reasons. “Max probably wouldn’t still be alive if she were.”

Sara’s eyes light up, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“You’re right, Flick,” Sara says before her face breaks into a wide smile. “Nyssa would totally have kicked his ass.”

*****

Later that night, as Felicity sits in between Sara and her father on the couch, Laurel two feet away, a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream sitting in her lap, she knows that she is well and truly _stuck here forever_.

And she really doesn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Felicity is way more in-canon-character in this chapter than she has been throughout this fic. Up until now, she’s been dealing with a lot of problems that have made it hard for her to be honest and authentic with the people around her. But now that she’s finally comfortable with the Lances and knows she won’t be abandoned again, she’s willing to open up and be herself.
> 
> This chapter was really fluffy, but fear not, a ton of angst will be headed your way in a chapter or two.
> 
> As always, let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sisterly bonding before Felicity starts school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re still reading this – which has basically become 20 million different tangents and random crap I want to write rather than a fully-fledged, multi-chapter fic – then bless you. You’re amazing. I *swear* this will be more structured later, I’m just building up to it. And every time I add more build-up, I add like 10 more pages I hadn’t planned on. I write this fic out of order, so I swear more angst, more Olicity, more Merlance, and more long-distance Nyssara are on their way, it’s just taking forever to find a place for the drabbles I’ve already written. This chapter is more of a filler before some big stuff headed your way, but my muse decided that it only wanted to write the filler today.
> 
> Fun fact, I wrote this when I was on antihistamines for a really bad allergic reaction to some bug bites, so I’m sorry if this sucks.
> 
> This chapter ended up being pretty short, but I hope you still like it!

It’s Monday. It’s _finally_ Monday, the day Felicity starts high school and actually stays for all six periods for the first time in years. And it is…terrifying. Or, it would be, if Sara wasn’t so adamant that the entire student population would adore her or face the wrath of the varsity soccer captain.

She tries to laugh at the memory of her tiny, powerful, blonde hurricane of a sister’s antics, but it comes out as more of a nervous squeak than actual laughter.

Okay, she’s still terrified.

Barely sixteen years old, bleached blonde hair and a smattering of freckles over her nose making her look even younger, adopted baby sister of Starling City High School royalty Sara and Laurel Lance, starting her senior year of high school with complete strangers. It’s incredibly daunting.

Felicity had memorized her schedule days ago, covertly glancing at the impeccably organized black and white agenda whenever she had the chance, but that doesn’t stop her from silently pouring over her schedule under the fluorescent lights of her kitchen at… She frowns. 5:00AM flashes brightly at her from the clock on the oven, meaning she couldn’t have slept for longer than four hours.

_Great._

She sighs deeply, blowing an errant curl from her face before moving to grab the coffee pot from the counter. She tries to be as quiet as possible, reluctantly placing silence over speed as she lets a pencil-width tap of water fill the pot at an agonizingly slow pace.

One ounce…

Two ounces…

She huffs a quiet sigh and places the pot in the sink to fill on its own before crossing the room to sit in a cushioned chair at the table. The pinstriped cushion shifts awkwardly under her weight, and the small adjustment is enough to throw off her balance. She shoots a foot out to correct herself, wincing when she hears a sharp _crack_ as her ankle collides with the leg of the neighboring chair, and silently prays she won’t wake anyone.

Toppling to the floor – further asserting her disastrous lack of coordination – is definitely on her list of most embarrassing things to do in front of her family; no matter how endlessly entertaining Sara would find it.

_It’s too early for this_ , her tired mind insists as she rubs her aching ankle, and she completely agrees. But her anxiety has a mind of its own. It’s kept her up for nearly the entire night, leaving her a shivering mess when the worst-case scenarios crack their way through her carefully constructed walls. But it wasn’t the normal teenage fears that plagued her sleep.

She didn’t worry about boys or grades or who she was going to sit with at lunch – though she can feel the spike of adrenaline rushing through her at _that_ thought because she hasn’t even _considered_ where she was going to go for lunch. Instead, she worries about someone finding out her Cooper secret. She worries about teachers feeling sorry for her because she’s essentially a foster child. She worries about ruining Sara’s and Laurel’s elevated statuses because she’s their awkward younger sister. But it was the thought of asking to go to the bathroom, oddly enough, that kept her awake longer than the other fears had.

Her brain really needs sleep.

She checks her schedule again, looking through her classes and ticking a finger out for each hour. First period history (with Sara, thank all that is good), second period English, third period French, fourth period Calculus, lunch, fifth period Home Economics – which makes her cringe. Was Home Ec. really still required? Weren’t they past the whole ‘cooking is mandatory’ mentality of the fifties? But it’s not gym, so she keeps her complaining to a minimum – and sixth period independent study with the student counselor who had reminded Felicity of Laurel.

_Well, there’s that at least_ , Felicity thinks. _Even if the middle of the day turns out to be a fate worse than death, I’ll start school with Sara and end it with Mrs. Briggs. And then Laurel will pick me up._ She sighs. _It’s only six hours. How bad can things get in six hours?_

Her hand tightens its hold on her schedule, the paper crinkling loudly around the edges because _did she really just think that?_ Her mother forced her out in less than six hours, her father left in less than six hours, Cooper was taken downtown, processed, and arrested in less than six hours. Things could very easily change from fantastic to abysmal in no time at all. She’s not sure why she keeps forgetting that.

But there’s a very significant difference between people who are expected to be in her life and those who are forced to be in her life. And as long as she has her sisters and her father and her teachers, she’ll be fine.

_Even if every person in your graduating class hates you, you’ll still have Sara and Dad and Laurel. And you’ll actually have a degree you can use to be a productive member of society. You can do this, Smoak._

_Smoak? Lance?_ She’s never really sure. Regardless, she knows that she can handle her first day of school.

She places her schedule carefully on the kitchen table, trying to smooth out the wrinkles she’d left with her fingers, and hears a wet splashing sound coming from the sink. She cocks her head to the side, her brows slipping together in confusion before she realizes that she left the now overflowing coffee pot under the faucet.

She quickly moves to turn the water off and counts to five before working up the courage to pour the water into the coffee maker, knowing that it will protest being used as soon as she pushes the button.

As expected, the coffeemaker starts shaking instantly, glass rattling horribly against the ceramic, and Felicity holds her breath. Thirty seconds pass, one minute, and still no sound of her family waking. She breathes out a sigh of relief.

But her victory is short-lived.

“Lis?” Laurel calls sleepily from the base of the stairs. “Is that you?”

Felicity jumps at the sound, whimpering when her knuckles collide hard with the slowly warming coffee pot. She cradles the back of her hand gingerly as Laurel walks sluggishly from the living room to the kitchen.

“Hey,” Felicity says, watching her sister rub the leftover mascara from under her eyes. “How did you know it was me?”

“Dad and Sara were still snoring. And you’re usually the one needing a coffee fix first thing in the morning.”

Felicity chuckles, eyes following Laurel as she moves to sit in the chair Felicity had just vacated. She doesn’t falter even the slightest amount (Felicity notices a little jealously) as she settles into the chair, folding her arms over the table, and wincing when she hears paper crinkling under her elbow. She lowers her eyes to skim over the school schedule Felicity had abandoned on the table.

“History with Vanneson, English with Coyer, French with Moreau, Calculus with Britt, Home Ec. with Crust, and free period with Briggs,” Laurel reads aloud. “I had Vanneson and Crust. They’re good teachers.” She hums thoughtfully, pulling her eyes from the schedule to look at Felicity. “Why do you have a free period? I thought you were missing a lot of classes... Seems a little counterproductive to strategically pull you out of more.”

“Oh, they’re calling my free period ‘independent study’. A counselor sits with me in the library and I take tests to prove I don’t actually need to take those classes.”

Laurel’s eyebrows raise slowly, considering the information as her eyes gleam proudly. “So…you’re _really_ smart.”

It’s not a question, but Felicity feels the need to answer anyway. She can feel streaks of heat playing across her cheekbones while she tries to organize her thoughts.

“Well…yeah, I-I guess. I mean _yes_ , but, I mean, comparatively speaking to like…Einstein or something… Not that I’m comparing myself to Einstein because that’s a _bit_ excessive-”

“Lis,” Laurel laughs softly. “Relax. I knew you were a genius. I guess I just never realized how smart you were.”

Felicity smiles shyly, shrugging her shoulders tightly before releasing them on a shaky exhale.

“Nervous about your first day?” Laurel asks sympathetically, taking note of Felicity’s anxious energy and the teeth unforgivingly sunken into her bottom lip.

“That obvious, huh?”

“Let’s see…it’s five in the morning, you start school today, and you’re eyeing the coffeemaker like it has the answer to all of life’s problems.”

“Coffee is _always_ the answer, my dear sister. And I’m going to continue believing that until science proves me wrong.” She pauses. “Actually, maybe not even then.”

Laurel shakes her head fondly before pulling the pot from the coffeemaker and filling two mugs, one black, for herself, and one pink, for Felicity.

“So,” Laurel starts. “We can either sit here in companionable silence while you worry about school and I worry about finding a job, or we can avoid our problems with television. What’s your vote? Personally, mine is television.”

Felicity releases a sharp breath, the ghost of a laugh, before Laurel’s words catch up with her.

“Wait, you’re looking for a job?”

Laurel’s face falls just a little, hesitancy turning her face into a cautious mask before it drops away.

“I’m not…doing much now. I’m not in college or moved out or taking care of my little sisters for the summer,” her eyes crinkle affectionately, “So I thought maybe it was time for me to be a real adult.”

Felicity bites her lip again, not quite sure how to respond. She’s happy that Laurel is moving on with her life, doing something more productive with her time than partying or running errands, but…it makes her nervous, too. It makes her worry about things around the house getting done (though she could easily pick up the heavy mantel Laurel carries; she’s done it before). It makes her worry that Laurel will be gone as often as Sara and their father, leaving her alone for more hours of the day than she prefers. It makes her wonder if her family is struggling financially – which sends a hard knot of uneasiness through her belly, because if they’re struggling, then it’s _her fault_ because they weren’t struggling before she forced herself on them. And if Laurel feels hard-pressed to get a job _because of her_ , if she’s making the Lances feel stressed because they’re too nice to tell her to leave…

“Woah, Lis, you need to calm down.”

Laurel’s voice breaks her from her imminent panic attack, and Felicity belatedly realizes that she hasn’t shared her fears aloud because she’s nearing hyperventilation. It’s not a full-blown panic attack yet, but she can feel the worry weaving its way through her muscles, tightening her shoulders and making her shiver.

She is _way_ too exhausted for this.

_No one hates you for being here_ , her rational thought tries to push over her anxiety, but the voice at the forefront of her mind screaming _look what you did!_ is too loud. She can feel herself unconsciously wincing at the words, willing her mind to relax, to allow her more time to gather her thoughts and organize them coherently.

She doesn’t notice Laurel creeping closer, so, _so_ careful not to frighten her, until she’s in her direct line of sight. When Felicity turns her wary gaze to her, Laurel cautiously reaches out a hand, watching her sister’s face carefully for any sign of distress before placing it on Felicity’s shoulder.

“Hey,” she sooths. “I’m just getting a job. For me. Everything’s fine, I promise.” She pauses. “Okay?”

Laurel pulls her hand back slowly, desperate to comfort Felicity, to hold her tightly until that frightened expression dissolves into something softer, but she wants it to be on Felicity’s terms. So she tampers down her instinct to comfort and protect and opens her arms in silent invitation, waiting for her sister to make a decision.

Felicity nods wearily, allowing her overtired mind to process Laurel’s words and willing her breaths to even out before she steps into Laurel’s cautiously open arms. She presses her face against Laurel’s collarbone, taking comfort in Laurel’s arms wrapping tightly around her neck and shoulder, and counts backwards from ten before she steps back and rubs her hands along her elbows.

“Is…um, is that offer to watch TV still good?” she asks shyly, focusing on Laurel’s chin to avoid her eyes.

“Of course,” Laurel responds sincerely, and Felicity can feel her coffee mug being placed back in her hands before she’s pulled toward the living room and their couch.

*****

Laurel falls asleep fifteen minutes into some trashy reality TV show ( _Trust me, Lis, reality TV makes you feel so much better about your own life,_ Laurel had assured her), head propped against the back of the couch as she snores lightly. It’s a bizarre sight for Felicity. Laurel so rarely allows her guard to drop, choosing instead to tuck away her emotions and focus her attention on her never-ending to-do list. Seeing her laid out on the couch, soft snores melting into a sigh as she relaxes further into unconsciousness, Felicity can’t help but notice how _young_ Laurel looks.

Felicity had seen a bruised teenager when she first moved in; seen Laurel’s ferocity, words and mannerisms screaming for someone to push past the walls and save the scared girl underneath. She had heard doors slamming and music blaring and broken taunts pushed through bitten lips. She’d felt the anger and betrayal and abandonment that shrouded Laurel like a thick blanket, heavy and suffocating. She’d heard the muted conversations in the kitchen, caught Laurel thumbing through bridal magazines and stealing sips of orange juice from the container when she thought no one was looking. All things that added up to a young girl desperate to find herself.

But that night – the night Felicity was chased through the Glades, the night the Lance sisters could have lost their father, the night Sara rode shotgun and wondered if her family would ever feel whole again – was the night that lost little girl changed. Gone was the all-consuming hurt, the blind rage that barely concealed it, the hopeless romantic and the starry-eyed dreamer too often let down. In her place stood a woman, a nineteen-year-old determined to help her family and cut ties with the teenage party girl.

Felicity loves it as much as she hates it.

She loves the sister so eager to comfort her, to take over the difficult aspects of her life and help carry her burdens. She loves having an older role model as good and kind and patient as Laurel. But she hates that Laurel forced herself to mature overnight. She hates that her sister never lets any of them _help_ , because she inherited a stubbornness that easily rivals their father’s. She hates that Laurel was robbed of more years just being a child, feeling safe in the knowledge that things would always be okay. But mostly, Felicity hates it because she knows none of it is really gone. It’s all buried beneath the surface – the guilt, the broken self-esteem, the urge to fight desperately against her demons – beneath the peaceful face she sees turned towards her. She knows there’s a nervous energy ticking endlessly in her sister’s mind, pushing her to always be doing _something_ , anything that distracts her from the negative emotions. She knows Laurel rarely slows down, muscles screaming to _do_ more as her head screams to _be_ more.

Honestly, Felicity is more than a little in awe of her sister’s ability to do anything but fall apart.

But she knows the feeling is mutual.

Laurel expresses her love and admiration for her family often, especially in offhanded statements to others; complimenting one person in the room while speaking with another.

“Felicity did really well today,” she’d announce to their father.

“Lis kept me company today,” she’d tell Sara.

“The kids at school won’t know how to handle how smart Felicity is.”

“Lis should pick the movie tonight.”

“Felicity could fix your computer problem in less than a minute, you know.”

She has no problem reaching out to others, ready and willing to offer hugs or warm touches or words of encouragement, but compliments are rarely given at face value. But it somehow makes them more special, makes the meaning behind her words more pronounced.

_I’m proud of you. I love you. You’re amazing and I don’t know how you do it._

Laurel twitches against the couch, elbow jolting against the cushions effectively ending Felicity’s inner monologue and helping her realize the true depth of her exhaustion.

Setting an alarm on her cell phone to wake her up in half an hour, Felicity mirrors Laurel’s position against the couch and falls asleep within minutes.

*****

_Flick…Flick…Felicity…_

“Flick!” Sara’s voice cuts sharply through the hazy fog of unconsciousness. “Your alarm started going off ten minutes ago, and if it doesn’t stop soon, you’re going to need a new cell phone.”

“What?” Felicity asks, blinking against the brightness of the lamp Sara had turned on. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose, stretching to loosen her muscles before she looks to the couch cushion next to her, seeing it devoid of her oldest sister.

“Your _alarm_ , Flick. I can’t believe it didn’t wake you up. How much sleep did you get last night?”

“Not much,” she admits, leaning over to flick her alarm off. “Which will do wonders for my day, I’m sure.”

“You’ll be fine,” Sara waives the notion away easily. “You could run circles around those kids with a concussion, a little sleep deprivation won’t make a difference.” She pauses. “Are you ready to start school today?”

Felicity hums, rubbing a hand anxiously along her pajama pants before she responds.

“I…I think so. Still a little nervous, I guess.”

“Well we can ask Laurel to take us early. I can show you around the school, introduce you to some friends, basically let everyone know that you’re with me so they have to be nice to you.”

Felicity smiles. “What are you going to do, intimidate anyone who looks at me funny?”

“Yep,” Sara responds easily, popping the p.

“I was just kidding, Sara.”

Felicity hears her sister mumble something that vaguely sounds like “maybe _you_ were” before Sara sits next to her and starts tapping rhythmically against her knee.

“It’ll be great, you know,” Sara announces.

“What will?”

“Going to school. It just…seems like you’re kind of freaked about it.”

Felicity can feel the blush creep across her face, undoubtedly staining her cheeks and ears pink. She _has_ been worried, the entire night plagued with doubts and confusion and preemptive fear, but she feels comfortable tucking it all away for the moment. An extra half hour of sleep and additional reassurance that Sara will always look after her have left her feeling lighter, more self-assured.

“Not as much now. It’ll…it’ll be great,” Felicity says with a little more confidence than she feels. “Really great.”

_Right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I write a lot of Felicity and Laurel together, but they’re my favorite characters. I can’t help it.
> 
> As always, let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first Arrow fanfic, and actually my only fanfic other than a short OUAT drabble I wrote three years ago, so I hope you liked it! I'm not an English major so you can honestly let me know what you thought in the comments, and tell me if you have ideas for later chapters! You can also find me on tumblr with the same username: taxingtaurus.


End file.
